Breathe In Now
by MissFee
Summary: Ziva's whole world is about to be turned upside down.  An OOC Ziva/OC, team-as-family-fic, no main character 'ships!  Some uncomfortable themes later on...
1. Chapter 1

**Alrighty, here's another tale. Be warned this will not necessarily be all sunshine and rainbows. There will be several OOC moments for Ziva, as well as a few for the rest of the team, but let's face it – she can't be a hard-arse all the time, can she? Rated T for the language and themes, it might change but at this stage I doubt it. Feedback is always appreciated. **

***Note: I had this up earlier tonight, then deleted it because I wanted to make a few changes to the chappy, otherwise the next few won't work properly. Sorry! :D **

**Thanks to Crying Cowgirl and WCUGirl for your support. You girls rock my world!**

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Chapter 1.

They'd been doing it for weeks now – the funny little ritual of two people getting to know each other. A stolen glance, a shy smile, that awkward tango where one 'accidentally' walks in front of the other. Finally, in the break room one cold December morning, he screwed up the courage to talk to her.

"Hi," he stammered. _Great, brilliant start man_, he thought to himself.

She turned to face him, her rich chocolate eyes lighting up with recognition. "Hello," she replied, a little shyly.

"So… I'm Neal. Did you want to… I don't know… grab a coffee sometime?"

"I would like that very much, Neal. My name is Ziva David."

"I know! That is… I know who you are. You've worked here for a few years haven't you? On Gibbs' team?" he blustered, trying to recover some composure.

She smiled, and he couldn't help but notice the way her eyes crinkled up when she did. "I am. And you have recently started on Balboa's team, have you not? You transferred from the FBI?"

"Yeah, that's right." _God, this woman makes me feel like a schoolboy!_

There was a moment's awkward silence, finally broken by the shrill ringing of Ziva's cell. She shot him an apologetic look before answering. "David," she said briskly into the phone, all the softness from their interaction gone. She listened for a moment and said, "I am on my way." She disconnected the call and made a face. "I must go, I am sorry. We have had a breakthrough with our case. Come past the bullpen later this afternoon, and if I am free we can go for that coffee."

Neal nodded eagerly. "I'll do that!" Worried that he may have come across as too keen, he pulled back a little. "I mean, if we haven't landed a case ourselves," he said, desperately trying to appear nonchalant.

Ziva smirked a little, and he knew he'd been busted. He blushed slightly, and smiled sheepishly as if to say, 'what can ya do?' She picked up the bottles of water and coffee she had been sent to collect and left the room.

"Until later then," she called over her shoulder.

Neal raised his hand in farewell, even though she was long gone from the room. "Until later, Ziva," he murmured. He felt as though he'd been sucker-punched, but in the best possible way. He would do whatever it took; he was determined to make Ziva his.

* * *

Ziva waited until she was out of both sight and earshot of the break room before allowing herself a little squeal and a skip of delight. He had finally made a move! Getting him past the bulldogs that made up her team would be another story, but she was sure they would come around. They'd been a little over-protective of her in the last twelve months, but they were loosening up. She'd just make them see reason. Neal Gardner was a good man; she could feel it deep in her belly. Slipping her game face back on, she headed back to the bullpen, a slight spring in her step the only indication that she was much happier than she had been on her arrival at work that morning.

* * *

At four thirty that afternoon, Neal headed toward Ziva's desk in the bullpen, only to find that she wasn't there.

"Can I help you?" a voice asked.

"Uh, yeah. I was looking for Zi – I mean, for Agent David," he replied as professionally as he could.

The man stood from behind his desk, straightened his suit jacket, and moved slowly towards the visitor, eyes coolly appraising. Neal felt himself flushing; nobody had made him feel this nervous since his days as a Probie with the Bureau.

"And who might I ask are you?"

"Oh knock it off Tony, the guy's just lookin' for Ziva," the other man in the pen called. He too stood up and headed in Neal's direction, his hand out. "Hi, I'm Tim McGee. You're Balboa's newbie, right? Gardner?"

Grateful for the sign of kindness, Neal took McGee's hand and shook it firmly. "Yeah, hi. Neal."

"This is our colleague, Tony DiNozzo," continued Tim, gesturing towards the other man.

"_Very_ Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, thank you very much," he shot back, a little testily.

Neal looked between the two, and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I've heard about you DiNozzo. Is it true that Fornell has an ulcer named after you?"

McGee groaned while Tony nodded his head proudly. "I'm aiming for another one in the next twelve months," he explained. Then he cocked his head, all business once more. "So why are you looking for Agent David?"

"Ah… I just wanted to… get her opinion on a case that we're working on. My Arabic isn't too good," he said, all the while hoping that they'd take the bait. He'd heard about Team Gibbs – hell, who hadn't? – and he knew that they were fiercely loyal to each other.

"We have translators for that," Tony frowned.

"Yes but they're unfamiliar with this particular dialect," he hedged. "I heard that Agent David speaks several languages and dialects, and thought she might be able to help."

McGee stepped in once more. "She's with Gibbs following up on a lead. You got a card? I can get her to give you a call." He had a hunch that this fellow was interested in more than just Ziva's skill with languages, but wasn't about to let on.

Neal pulled one of his cards out and scribbled a quick note on it before handing it to McGee. "That'd be great, thanks McGee." He began to back out of the bullpen, to the amusement of McGee and the confusion of DiNozzo. "Just tell her I stopped by, and… yeah." With that, he turned and fled for the relative safety of his own team.

McGee slipped the card into his pocket and sat back down behind his computer.

DiNozzo followed suit, and kept a lid on his curiosity for all of two minutes, before he was over trying to dig into McGee's pocket. "C'mon, Probie, just show me a look!"

McGee slapped his hand. "_No_ Tony, I will not. When Ziva gets back, I will give it to her. End of story."

"But he wrote something on there, I wanna know what it was!" the older agent whined.

"Tony, it's none of our business. Tell you what, when Ziva gets back, I'll give her the card. Then she can tell you herself," explained McGee in an overly-patient manner.

DiNozzo glared at him before reaching out and smacking the back of his head. "You've changed, McSpoilSport. The old McGee would've jumped at the chance to get some dirt on our Mossad Angel," he taunted.

Sighing heavily, McGee turned to look at the other man. "No I wouldn't have, because I value my life. Just leave it alone Tony!"

"Leave what alone?"

DiNozzo spun around, and plastered his finest 'innocence' face on. "Nothing at all, my little warrior princess, nothing at all."

Ziva snorted. "Somehow, I doubt that very much."

"You'd be right Ziva, it wasn't 'nothing', Tony was just being nosy," said McGee, reaching for the card. "Neal Gardner from Balboa's team stopped by, wanted me to give you this." To his surprise, Ziva blushed a little as she accepted the card from his outstretched hand.

DiNozzo caught the blush and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted with a ball of paper aimed directly at his head. He looked over at McGee, who warned him off with a shake of the head. Deciding to leave things for now, he changed the tack of the conversation. "So, how'd you do on that lead? Get anywhere?"

Happy for the change in subject, and more than a little desperate to get her mind back on track and _off_ the vibrant blue eyes of Special Agent Neal Gardner, she focussed her attentions back on the case. "Gibbs is not happy with the information the Petty Officer has given us, so we are to do some digging and see if we can find any ghosts in his closet."

"You mean skeletons, Ziver," Gibbs smirked as he swept into the bullpen. Putting his coffee down, he sat behind his computer and glared over at DiNozzo and McGee. "Well, what're you waiting for? Get digging! Ziva go see Abby; see if she's been able to get anything off those prints."

"On it Boss," the two men said together, both shooting surreptitious glances at Ziva, who was still holding the business card.

She appeared not to have heard Gibbs, until a rubber band flew through the air and struck her on the arm, snapping her back to reality. Closing her fist over the card, she mumbled, "Yes Gibbs, I am on it," before walking quickly to the elevators.

* * *

On the way down to the lab, Ziva hit the emergency stop button, pulled out her cell and dialled the number on the card. She held her breath as it rang, once, twice… and then he answered.

"_Gardner."_

"Yes, Neal, it is Ziva. I am sorry to have missed you before."

"_Oh hey Ziva!"_ She could hear the smile in his voice. _"I just thought I'd see if you wanted to go for that coffee, but you were out. How'd you go?"_

"It all came to nothing, unfortunately. I may not be able to do coffee just yet, but perhaps you'd like to go for a drink after work? I should be finished around half-past six tonight, with a little luck." Ziva crossed her fingers, and her toes, before realising just how foolish that was. She wasn't some giddy schoolgirl for goodness sakes!

"_That sounds great,"_ he said warmly. _"How does the Bella Bar work for you? It's just around the corner from here, they do a mean martini!"_

"Perfect! I will see you then," she said, the butterflies rising in her stomach once more. "Talk to you soon, Neal."

"_Have a good afternoon Ziva."_ He disconnected the call.

Slumping against the wall of the elevator, she flicked the emergency switch once more and continued her descent to the lab. She hadn't felt this excited in years; she had to tell someone. Barely controlling herself as the elevator doors opened, she casually walked into the lab.

* * *

Abby's music was pumping its heavy bass line as always, and Ziva paused in the doorway to adjust to it. She slipped inside, and called out to the young Goth. "Abby!"

Abby spun around, pigtails flying. "Ziva!" she squealed. "I haven't seen you in, like, ages! Where've you been?"

"Oh you know, busy with this case," she said vaguely.

Abby frowned. "You're hiding something. And it's big. What is it? C'mon, spill!" she ordered.

"Abby! What makes you think I am hiding something?"

"It's written all over your face; you've had some good news, I can tell!"

Ziva tried to keep a straight face, but failed. "Well, remember that guy I was telling you about last week? The new one on Balboa's team?"

"Ye-es," Abby replied impatiently.

"He asked me if I would like to go out with him sometime!"

"Oh my god, Ziva! That's great! He's super nice, and so so smart! He was down here the other day going over the forensics from the Martinez case, remember the one that the defence lawyers are trying to settle on, and he really knows his stuff! 'Course, he'd have to be smart, 'cause Balboa's no fool, he expects the best from his people, kinda like Gibbs, but less mean, y'know…" She was stopped mid-sentence when Ziva clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Yes, well, we are going for a drink tonight, but it has been some time since I've been on a date, and… well…" she trailed off.

"You need advice?" asked Abby incredulously. "Ziva, the guy is nuts about you! I should know, when he was down here he was asking heaps of questions about you. Well, not just you, the whole team, but mostly you!"

Ziva blushed. "Really?"

Abby looped her arm through her friend's, and ushered her over to a stool. "_Yes_ girl, he was. Trust me, just be yourself. He's already interested, so just relax and enjoy it!" She placed both her hands on Ziva's shoulders and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I'll expect a full de-brief tomorrow, Agent David!" she said bossily, her eyes sparkling with humour as she said it.

"Yes, Miss Scuito!" Ziva snapped off a salute and let out a small giggle. "Just do me one favour though Abby."

"What's that?"

"Please don't tell the boys, not yet anyway. I will tell them when it is time."

"Cross my heart," said Abby, as she marked an 'X' over her heart. Then she was back to business. "So, what did you come down to see me for? Let me guess, Gibbs wants results from those prints right? If I've told him once, I've told him a hundred times, you can't rush science…"

* * *

It was a little after 6pm when Gibbs dismissed the team. They had not found much more information relating to their case, and there was little else that could be done outside of normal business hours, so Gibbs had decided to let them leave, on the proviso that they were back at the yard no later than 7:30 the next morning.

Ziva surreptitiously touched up her makeup and tidied her hair, before replacing her sensible woollen scarf with a more colourful silk one, and attaching some earrings that Abby had insisted she wear.

Gibbs watched her carefully as he pretended to work at his own desk. McGee and DiNozzo had departed very quickly, one with plans to take his sister out, the other a mini-reunion with his frat brothers. He was naturally very protective of 'his' girl, especially after they'd brought her home from Somalia, and she had all but denounced Eli David in his basement.

He thought he'd sound her out a little. "Big night planned, Ziva?"

"No, nothing like that Gibbs," she replied a little hastily. "Just meeting a friend for a quick drink."

A lesser investigator would have missed the faint stain that appeared on her cheeks, but he chose not to comment. "Have a good night then. Be careful."

"See you in the morning, Gibbs," she said, as she grabbed her handbag and jacket and all but ran to the elevator.

He smiled to himself and carried on with his work. 'Just so long as she's happy,' he thought.

* * *

Neal ran into the Bella Bar at nearly a quarter to seven. 'Shit, shit, _shit_,' he thought. 'Way to make a good impression.' He saw Ziva sitting in a booth nursing a glass of red wine, and thought he felt his heart stop. In the gentle lighting of the bar, she looked… perfect. Shrugging out of his overcoat, he hung it by the door and headed toward her. She looked up, and her face broke into a big smile.

"I was beginning to think you had held me up!" she scolded, but the relief was clear on her face.

Neal went blank for a moment, and then laughed. "I think you mean stood up, Ziva. And no, I would never do that to you, not in a million years."

"Ah, of course, stood up. It doesn't make much more sense, but I will work with that." She lifted her glass and took a small sip. "Did your team land a case?"

"No, just an MTAC op went a little overtime," he said airily. He glanced around the room and caught the eye of a waiter, who came right over. "Tanqueray martini, stirred and with a twist, thank you."

"I am impressed," said Ziva, offering up a cheeky smile. "A man who knows his way around a martini is a rare find these days."

"I bet there's a dozen things about you that would impress me no end. I already like what I see," he finished softly, reaching out tentatively to touch her hand. She blushed a little and entwined her fingers with his.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, until Neal's drink arrived. Raising his glass, he lightly touched hers in a toast. "Here's to tonight," he said, not taking his eyes off hers. "May it be the first of many."

Ziva raised her glass. "I will happily drink to that," she said softly.

* * *

The following morning, Ziva floated into NCIS as though in a dream. The night had been nothing short of magical, finishing up in the wee small hours of morning. She'd only had a few hours sleep, but she didn't feel fatigued; in fact, she was energised, and pulsing with a vibe she'd thought to be long gone.

Ziva and Neal had spent a few hours at the bar, talking, and before long it was as if they'd known each other for years. They moved from the bar to a casual Thai restaurant, and then ended up at a jazz club dancing the night away. At the end of it, he'd dropped her home and kissed her goodnight. Ziva had never thought of herself as the hopeless romantic type, but she'd felt the tingles down in her toes, and the goosebumps roll down her spine, as they kissed. He was the first to break it off, pupils slightly dilated and breathing a little heavy, as he unlocked her door and ushered her inside, before leaning in for one last kiss and making his way home.

She idly reminisced over their evening as the team went about their business with the case. It wasn't until she realised that DiNozzo had asked her the same question three times in a row that she put a stop to her daydreaming.

"So, good night last night Zee-vah?" smirked Tony.

"Yes, it was fine, thank you for asking Tony," she replied, as she focussed again on her computer and began running searches on their suspect.

"I'd say it was better than fine; in fact, I'd even go so far to say that it was great!" he crowed. Rolling his chair out from behind his desk and pushing himself over until he was directly in front of her, he reached out and pulled her keyboard out of the way. "You had a date last night, didn't you?"

Ziva glared at him and made a grab for her keyboard, only to have it snatched away once more. "It is none of your business what I did or did not do last night DiNozzo," she hissed, "and if you don't want this stapler to find a new home in your left nostril I suggest you leave it alone!"

"Listen to the girl, DiNozzo," Gibbs said gruffly as he strode into the bullpen and smacked his SFA in the back of the head.

"Yes Boss!" Tony pushed off with his legs and rolled back to his own desk.

Gibbs leaned down, pretending to check something that Ziva was doing. "Was it a good night?" he whispered in her ear.

She blushed slightly; she couldn't help it. It was becoming a rather annoying reflex of late! "Just perfect," she whispered back, a smile spreading across her face.

Gibbs grunted his approval before standing upright again and going back to his own desk.

Within a few minutes, an email pinged its arrival in Ziva's inbox.

_**From: LJ Gibbs**_

_**Subject: (none)**_

_If he breaks your heart, I'll break his legs. Slowly. Might be an idea to remind him._

Ziva looked over at Gibbs who was intent on his paperwork. He raised his eyes slightly and caught her gaze, nodded, then looked down again. Ziva felt a warm glow spread through her body that had nothing to do with the previous night. For the first time in a long time, things were working out for her.


	2. Chapter 2

**In the immortal words of Frank'n'Furter, let's do the time warp!**

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Chapter 2.

_4 months later…_

Ziva awoke feeling a lot less than fabulous. She disentangled herself from Neal's grasp and slowly sat up, begging the universe to stop spinning. No such luck; she raised her knees and rested her forehead on them, trying to control her breathing.

"Baby, you okay?" mumbled Neal sleepily, rolling over and resting a hand on her lower back.

"I have been better," she admitted. "I think I have finally caught that flu that has been going around."

"Yeah?" He sat up concerned and placed a kiss on her temple. "Maybe you should stay home today, try and sleep it off."

"No! No, I can't do that, I will be fine my love, I promise," she flashed him a wan smile that did nothing to convince him. "If we can stop at the pharmacy and pick up some medicine on the way to work that would be wonderful."

Neal was still sceptical but kept it to himself. "At least promise me you'll take it easy today, _and_ that you'll go see Ducky if it gets worse."

"I promise," she said and leaned back into his embrace.

He planted another kiss on her head, and said, "I'd kiss you on the mouth but I don't wanna catch your cooties!"

She gave him a slightly puzzled look. "I have the flu, not head lice."

Laughing, he pulled her back into another cuddle. "Ask DiNozzo about cooties, I'm sure he'll tell you all about them."

* * *

She sat at her desk and rested her head on her keyboard, ignoring the beeping it made. The day had gone from bad to worse; not only had she nearly been late because of the queue at the pharmacy, they had been called out to a crime scene that featured a very dead and very dismembered Navy lieutenant. Ziva's stomach recoiled as she thought of the poor woman in her own bathtub, and she squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to get rid of the images blurring through her mind.

"So, Zee-vah! How's your little romance going with ol' Nealy-boy huh?" called Tony from across the bullpen.

"Now is not the time Tony," she mumbled, not lifting her head.

"Hey Ziva, you okay?" asked McGee, coming over and crouching down next to her.

"I am fine, it is just the flu." She opened her eyes, and with some effort, raised her head and tried to do some work.

"Maybe you should go home, you look awful," he offered.

"Uh-oh Probie, you should know better than to tell an assassin she's havin' a bad-hair day," teased DiNozzo. He took in the sight of the young woman in front of him though; McGee was right.

"Knock it off DiNozzo," barked Gibbs. Turning to Ziva he said, "Go see Ducky. If he says you work, you work."

It was a sign of just how unwell she was feeling that she didn't argue, just pulled herself upright and trudged to the elevators.

"Boss, she's really sick," said McGee worriedly.

"Ya think, Tim?" Draining his cup of coffee, he threw the empty container in the bin and turned once more to his team. "So what've we got on this lieutenant…"

* * *

Ziva had never felt this ill in her life – well, there was that one time in Puerto Rico with Malachi and three bottles of tequila, but this was a different kind of sick altogether. The doors to Autopsy slid open and as the smell of formaldehyde and antiseptic hit her nostrils she finally lost control. Running to the bin next to Ducky's desk, she threw up what felt like every meal she'd ever eaten, plus a kidney, before finally there was nothing left.

She felt a gentle hand on her back. "My dear girl, did that help at all?"

She slumped against the wall and looked up at the kindly ME through glazed eyes. "A little but not enough."

"I see," he nodded. "Mr Palmer? Would you be so kind as to fetch a bottle of water and a wet washcloth for Miss David?"

"Right away Doctor." Palmer hurried into the office and returned with the requested items, offering them to Ziva with a sympathetic smile.

"It is nothing Ducky, it is just the flu," she tried to argue.

"Ah, yes! I see you have graduated from the same medical school that includes Jethro and Anthony in its ranks!" He tutted and helped her to her feet. "Come now my dear, what is the harm in having me examine you just to make sure that everything really is as it seems?"

"Fine," she grumbled. "But then you will let me go back to work. I do not wish to be a burden on my team."

"My dear Ziva, they would be more concerned if you were not able to, as Jethro puts it, 'have their six' in the field. Now sit up here," he said, patting the spare autopsy table. "Now, how long have you had these symptoms for?"

"Um… about three or four days, I guess, but today is definitely the worst," she admitted.

"Ah! And you finally decided to come and see me now? Do I owe this privilege to the charming Mr Gardner and not of your direct free will? Do you know, I once worked with a marvellous chap in Uganda whose name was Gardner, an Australian fellow, and as loyal to the Empire as they came…"

* * *

Back in the bullpen, McGee fidgeted behind his computer, barely focussed on his work. He kept glancing at the elevator every time the doors opened, and each time was disappointed that Ziva was not appearing from the steel box.

"Relax, McWorryWart, she'll be fine," said DiNozzo airily, "which is more than I can say for you if the Boss comes back and finds that you've done three-fifths of _nada_ since he's been up with the Director."

"Tony, you know as well as I do that Ziva never gets sick. She's like Gibbs," he said, half worried, half admiring.

"Oh she gets sick alright. She just never lets us see it." Tony frowned. "You're right, maybe we should be worried." He stood up on his desk and wolf-whistled to get the attention of Balboa's team. "Hey! Gardner!" He beckoned him over with a sharp snap of his fingers.

Neal sauntered over to the MCRT bullpen casually and leaned up on Ziva's desk. "You know DiNozzo, you could've just picked up the phone. Or you been takin' lessons from Gibbs on how to win friends and influence people?"

"Yeah yeah, whatever," said Tony dismissively.

McGee decided it was time to play the peacekeeper. "We're just worried about Ziva Neal. Did you stay at her place last night? Was she okay?"

Neal shot a derisive look at DiNozzo before giving his full attention to Tim. "She was a little off this morning," he confessed. "We stopped on the way in to get some antacid and flu meds, and I told her if she felt worse she should go see Ducky."

"Which is where she is," a voice growled behind him, "and where you'll end up if you don't get back to your own team and stop talking about one of my agents!"

Neal jumped. "Yes sir, sorry Gibbs. DiNozzo just wanted a sit-rep on Ziva that's all," he managed to get out before fleeing the scene.

"Tattletale!" DiNozzo called to the departing man's back. "Ouch!" he then yelped and rubbed the back of his head. "What the hell was that for?"

"Gossiping."

The elevator doors opened once again, and this time Ziva stepped out.

"Ziva!" called Tim, clearly relieved. "How're you feeling?"

She managed a weak smile, though she still looked very ordinary. "I am fine Tim, Ducky seems to think it is just a bug. Still, he took some blood just to make sure." She held out her arm to show the band-aid as proof.

Gibbs frowned. "Can you go back in the field today?"

"He would prefer if I didn't, but he knows he cannot stop me," she said defiantly, her chin jerking.

"No, but I can," he retorted, and pointed to her desk. "Desk duty all day. Don't argue, or I'll send you home."

She looked to her co-workers for some support; Tony found a fascinating piece of lint on his jacket sleeve and McGee had become very interested in his left shoe. Realising that she had been beaten, she sighed and sat back down behind her desk.

* * *

Ziva worked steadily all day, ignoring the occasional pang of nausea that would throb through her. Later that afternoon, an email arrived in her inbox.

_**From: Neal Gardner**_

_**Subject: tonight**_

_Hey babe,_

_Sorry but I have to cancel on our plans tonight – we're on a case at the moment and it looks as though it'll be an all-nighter. Might not be the worst thing in the world, you could probably use the sleep! But don't worry, you still look beautiful to me – even when you look like something the cat dragged in!_

_N_

_xx_

She smiled; he somehow always knew just when she needed a little boost. She quickly fired back a reply.

_**From: Ziva David**_

_**Subject: RE: tonight**_

_That is fine my love, I will go home and sleep this off. I don't quite know what the cat has to do with anything, after all neither of us have pets? Anyway, I'm sure that's a conversation for another day. Don't work too hard!_

_Z_

_x_

A package of crackers and a cup of tea materialised on her desk just as she sent the message off. She looked up in surprise to see that Tony was the bearer of gifts.

She gave him a questioning look, to which he shrugged and said, "You haven't eaten anything all day, I figured these'd be gentle enough to keep down."

"Thank you Tony, that is very kind," she said and wrapped her hands around the warm mug before taking a tentative sip. To her delight, she was able to sip it without feeling ill. Buoyed by the discovery, she opened the crackers and eagerly tucked into one.

"Hey, go slowly, or they'll come charging right back up again," he teased.

"Oh, ha ha ha," she retorted, her mouth full of crumbs. "It is so nice to be able to eat!" Her phone rang, and she reached for it. "David," she mumbled, crumbs flying everywhere.

"_Ziva my dear, it's Ducky. Do you have a moment to come and see me?"_

She swallowed and shot a death stare at Tony who was trying not to laugh. "Certainly Dr Mallard, I am on my way," she replied in her most dignified tone, despite the crackers stuck in her gums. She hung up the phone and threw the now-empty packet at Tony. "Ass."

* * *

Walking towards the doors of Autopsy, she braced herself for the onslaught of odour that had knocked her down this morning, but was pleasantly surprised to find… nothing. Well, nothing out of the ordinary anyway.

"Ducky!" she greeted the ME as she walked in. "Do not tell me you have my blood results already?"

"Yes well, it was able to be much faster than we first thought. You see, I called in a favour with a pathologist friend of mine at Walter Reid," he tapped his nose and winked. "I figured that you would be eager to know the cause of your mystery illness sooner rather than later."

"And you have them?" she asked a little anxiously.

"I do indeed my dear, in fact I have not even opened the envelope yet." He tapped the yellow envelope on his desk and picked it up, slitting it open. He unfolded the pages and scanned through them, his expression unreadable. "Oh my," he said.

"Ducky, you are scaring me!" she gave a nervous little laugh, the nausea flooding back for an encore performance.

"Well my dear, I don't quite know how to put this…"

* * *

She couldn't believe it. It felt like some kind of joke, a sick practical joke. But Ducky wasn't one for practical jokes, certainly of this nature. She paced back and forth in the confined space of the elevator before hitting the emergency stop button. She needed time to think; she certainly would not be able to do that back at her desk. Whipping out her cell phone, she began tapping out a text. But who to send it to? Finally, she decided on the safest bet, and the one she knew would have her back in case of consequences – McGee.

_Going home on D's orders. Bed rest. Tell G for me? Z._

Short and to the point. She hit the emergency stop button once more, got off on the next floor and took the stairs down to the garage before hitting 'send' on the message.

She slipped behind the wheel of her car – a new yellow Mini, her latest pride and joy – and started it, listening to the comforting sound of the engine idling. She needed time to think.

* * *

McGee's phone buzzed in his pocket; he pulled it out and glanced at the message. "Hey Boss?" he called over to the Lead Agent. "Ziva just texted, said Ducky's sent her home."

"Hell, she's just gettin' lazy now," snarked Tony. "Why the hell couldn't she just come up and say that? More to the point, why's she texting _you_ McGoo? I'm meant to be her partner!"

Gibbs just glared at him, before nodding at McGee. "Thanks for the update Tim."

"Boss," he pressed, "she's left her bag, her gun, her badge… everything! Should I take it to her?"

"I'll do it!" piped up DiNozzo.

"Hey, if anyone it should be me. Or, you know, her boyfriend?" shot back McGee.

"_I'll_ do it," said Gibbs, effectively putting a stop to the blossoming argument. "Get back to work."

* * *

Ziva drove mindlessly for a little while, before finally heading in the direction of her apartment. She breathed a heavy sigh; this was not how she'd anticipated her week starting. She trudged up the stairs to her second floor home and let herself in. It was only then that she realised she'd left her bag and coat at the office. She leaned back against the wall and started to cry. It was all too much to take in.

* * *

It was almost 7pm when Team Gibbs finally called it a day. Gibbs packed up his own desk before bundling up Ziva's belongings.

"I still think I should take her stuff over to her," said Tony, but there was a tone of worry in his voice this time.

Gibbs gave him a little half-smile and shook his head. "She'll be fine DiNozzo, I'll check on her myself."

"Got it." The younger man gathered up his own things and flicked his desk lamp off. "G'night Boss."

Gibbs waited a few moments before following DiNozzo. A thought was nagging at his gut, and one he had experienced before; in fact, he was so certain, he'd bet his next pay check on it.

* * *

Ziva had never been one to wallow in self-pity, and certainly wasn't about to start now. For goodness sakes, she'd been held captive for months in the middle of Africa – she could deal with this! All the same, her usual stress-relievers were out of the picture; Ducky had insisted that she not drink or exercise vigorously until she'd met with a doctor. So when the tears dried, she did what else came naturally: clean. She began spring-cleaning her apartment from top to bottom, pausing only to take a mouthful of water here and there.

She was just running the vacuum over the carpets a second time to ensure any stray dust had been picked up when a loud knock on the door startled her. Kicking the machine off, she wiped her face with her hands and instinctively reached for the gun she kept near the door, before peeking through the spy-glass. Seeing Gibbs, she panicked a little. "Hello Gibbs!" she called, playing for time.

"Ziva! You gonna let me in or we gonna talk out here?" came the impatient reply.

"Oh there is nothing to talk about Gibbs, but Ducky has said I am very contagious!" She coughed for effect and hoped he was buying it. Another glance through the spy-glass told her otherwise.

"Open the damn door Ziva," came the quiet response.

She leaned her head against the door and sighed; she should've known better than to try and get anything past Gibbs. Sliding back the bolt, she unlocked the door and opened it.

"So you must be feeling a little better?" he said sardonically, aiming a pointed look at the vacuum cleaner sitting in the middle of the room.

She shot a dirty look at it, as if it was the fault of the device that she'd been caught out in such a blatant lie. "Well, yes I am as a matter of fact," she replied shortly.

"Right," he said, his face expressionless. "I take it Ducky got the blood results back? That was quick."

"Yes, somebody owed him a favour." She began pacing around the room, feeling very much like one of Gibbs' suspects.

"So it must be pretty serious to warrant you being sent home without coming back up for your stuff." He gestured to the bundle now sitting on the couch. He pulled some paperwork out of his pocket and began to unfold it. "So it is my understanding that you'll be off work for some time, correct? I need you to sign these forms so that we can get your sick leave processed immediately. And then of course, we need to make appointments with the staff at Bethesda so we can find out exactly what is wrong with you; DiNozzo is still in regular contact with Dr Pitt, I'm sure he'd be glad to help out…"

"Gibbs, enough!" she burst. "I'm pregnant!"

He looked at her for a long moment, blue eyes meeting brown. His suspicions had been right, but she looked more like she'd just been told she was being transferred to the Arctic Circle.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered again, tears forming in her eyes. Moving forward he took her in his arms and held her tightly.

* * *

Two glasses of water, a cup of strong coffee (for Gibbs) and half a box of tissues later, Ziva and Gibbs were sitting on her couch. She began to talk; a dull monotone the only way she could get her story out without her emotions getting the better of her.

"When I was in Somalia, I thought I was in Hell. I thought I was being punished for a past life or for something in my current life. I couldn't understand how a single man could be so cruel.

"Saleem raped me repeatedly. He offered me up to his friends, his team, or anyone with money. I was beaten badly and tortured constantly. In Mossad, they teach us how to deal with that but there is no training for the indignity of rape. I became ill, and determined on my own that I was pregnant. Of course, I miscarried and it was terrible. There was so much blood…" At this point, her voice trailed off. Gibbs reached out and squeezed her hand tightly, a silent sign of support.

"I gave up after that point. I was certain that I would die in that place. And then you all showed up, and I was safe once more. It has taken so much time for me to even be able to be in the same room as more than one man, and now I am in this wonderful relationship! Neal is everything I could wish for, Gibbs, he is a good man. And now this… I don't want to spoil what we have, but I don't know that I could go through the pain of losing another child!" The tears began flowing again in earnest, and she leaned forward into the embrace of the only father she ever really knew.

Gibbs rocked back and forth, holding her tightly and murmuring sweet nothings into her ear. As her sobs subsided, he held her back at arm's length slightly, forcing her to look at him. "He cares for you so much Ziver," he said quietly. "Whatever you decide, he'll be there for you – and so will we. You're not on your own anymore."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to all of you who have been alerting my little story; it's a joy to write for you. Oh, I also forgot the disclaimer at the start – I own nothing. No, really. Seriously, if I owned these guys, would I still be schlepping in a bookstore? Pfft.**

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* * *

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Chapter 3.

It had been three days since Ziva had received the news. Three long, silent days. Gibbs had offered her some time off to adjust to it all, but she found that if she was able to work, it kept her mind occupied. She just had no idea how to broach the topic with Neal, and was almost thankful that his team had been on the go constantly for the last few days.

Ducky had been hovering constantly, checking on her and making sure that she wasn't feeling any ill effects from the morning sickness. Abby was being kept busy, thankfully, with the evidence of several cases keeping her from nosing in on Ziva – she wasn't sure that she'd be able to keep this kind of news a secret from the Goth who had wormed her way into her heart. Tony had poked and prodded until Ziva had snapped and hurled her knife across the bullpen, lodging itself in the wall directly behind his head. After that incident, he kept his questions to himself. McGee had said very little, just needing the occasional assurance that she really was okay, and if she needed anything he was just a phone call away.

The most comforting presence was Gibbs. After she'd poured her heart out to the older man the other night, he'd become the silent pillar of support she needed. The previous night, unable to sleep, she'd gotten in her car and driven to his house, let herself in and just sat on the worn old chair in the basement watching him work. She woke shortly after dawn to find herself covered with an old USMC blanket and a small cushion under her head. She'd gone back upstairs and silently let herself out; and when she arrived at work that morning Gibbs had merely grunted a greeting and accepted the coffee she presented him with. That just smoothed her ruffled feathers further; he was not about to treat her as anything other than the person she was, baby or no baby.

She hadn't realised that she'd zoned out – _again_ – until her email pinged.

_**From: Neal Gardner**_

_**Subject: BOLO**_

_I'm looking for my beautiful girlfriend, have you seen her? She has long mahogany curly hair, the most captivating chocolate eyes and her smile has been attributed as one of the primary causes of global warming._

_How are you babe? We're wrapping up today, just finalising paperwork. The op went off without a hitch last night, thankfully. Will give you more details when I see you tonight. My place, 7pm. I'll cook. Or, you know, dial. _

_N xx_

Ziva let out a low chuckle; his email easing the knot of tension in her stomach a fraction. She quickly fired back a response in the affirmative, and looked over at the team leader. "Gibbs," she called out, "would it be possible for me to leave a little early today? I have a few things I need to take care of." Ducky had arranged for her to see another colleague of his, an obstetrician at Bethesda, and the appointment was at 5pm.

Gibbs looked at her, his sky blue eyes assessing her frankly, before nodding. "Make sure all your paperwork is in before you go, David," he said, turning his attention back to his own work.

* * *

Ziva drove to Bethesda, a fraction slower than her usual speed, nerves taking over her body. She was about to see what her baby – their baby – looked like for the first time, and she was terrified. Ducky had offered to come with her, but she had refused. Now, not for the first time, she was wishing she didn't have to be so strong all of the time. She swung into the car park of the hospital and gazed up at the familiar complex. Opening the door, she slid out and instinctively began to walk towards the emergency department, before giving her head a little shake and going in the other direction. It wasn't unusual; after all, she and her team had spent many hours in the Bethesda ER, and to her mind this was an emergency – of sorts. Walking in the main entrance of the hospital, she followed the signs to the specialist wing, and opened the door of Suite 12.

The receptionist looked up and beamed. "Good afternoon Ma'am, how many I help you?"

Ziva cleared her throat before she spoke. "Yes, my name is Ziva David of NCIS. I have an appointment with Dr Alison Campbell; I have been referred by Dr Mallard."

The smile hardly budged from the receptionist's face; Ziva wondered if that was something that was learned in secretarial school. "Certainly Miss David, I just need you to fill out some forms, and I need to sight your NCIS identification, for insurance purposes."

Ziva complied, not bothering to correct the oh-so slightly irritating girl that she was in fact an Agent. She sat down with the clipboard and efficiently filled out all the pages. She took them back up to the desk and handed them over.

After what felt like an age, the receptionist, whom Ziva had named Career-Girl Barbie, slipped out from behind her desk and ushered Ziva into an adjoining room. A side door opened, and an older woman stepped in.

"Ziva," she greeted, "I've heard so much about you from Dr Mallard! I'm Alison Campbell, I'll be your obstetrician for the duration." She smiled warmly and extended her hand, grasping Ziva's tightly.

"It is nice to meet you, Dr Campbell," said Ziva softly. She liked this woman immediately; she had a good natured sparkle in her hazel eyes, and her long ash-blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun, strands escaping everywhere.

"Oh please, call me Alison. You and I are going to know each other _very_ well in the coming months, so I'd rather there not be any stuffiness between us!" She took a seat at her desk and gestured for Ziva to sit opposite her. "Now, Ducky has sent over your full medical history, so we don't need to go into too much detail with that. There are a couple of things I did need to go over with you, however, but I'll try not to be too nosy okay?" She grinned to take the edge off her words. "Ducky is a little sketchy in parts; he made a mention that you were in a hostage situation over a year ago?"

Ziva stilled a moment. "That is correct," she replied quietly.

The older woman's tone softened. "And I am to understand that you were brutalised quite extensively?" Ziva nodded stiffly, not meeting the doctor's eyes. "My dear girl, I wish we could just wipe all this from your medical history, but the fact remains your body underwent extreme trauma. Now, upon examination on your return to the States, the treating doctor noticed that there were signs of a miscarriage, is that correct?"

Ziva nodded again, clenching her fists. "I was never properly diagnosed as being pregnant, but I felt ill for some time and then… there was a great deal of pain, and blood…" she bit her lip.

Alison reached out and placed a hand over the younger woman's fists. "That sounds like a miscarriage to me," she said gently. "You are a remarkable woman to have bounced back from all of that, there are few in this world that could do what you have done Ziva. Believe it or not, this information will assist me in how I treat you and your body over the course of the next 7 months." Ziva said nothing; mentally retreating to her 'safe place'. "Ziva, come back to me," the older woman ordered carefully, watching the eyes of the other begin to glaze. "You are not going to do that with me, I will not permit it."

Ziva pulled herself back from her own void and looked squarely at the doctor. "I am sorry," she said, "it is still just quite painful to discuss. And now this! What if something happens and I lose this baby? I just don't know how to handle this, it's all too much."

"We work as a team Ziva. You, me and Dr Mallard. From what Ducky tells me, you have an incredible support network and a caring partner. You will be fine. Some things are out of our hands, but for the time being you and that little jellybean inside you are in _my_ hands. Clear?"

Ziva sniffled, but offered up a small smile. "Crystal."

"Great!" Alison clapped her hands together. "You know, normally I leave this part 'til later, but I think we could use some cheer right now. Undo your jeans, hop up on the table and let's do your ultrasound."

* * *

Alison wheeled the unit beside the table and waited until Ziva was lying back as comfortably as she could. With practiced hands, she slid the younger woman's shirt up and gently nudged the waist band of the jeans down a little more, until they were resting just below her hips. She squeezed a dollop of gel onto Ziva's belly, a little more on the wand and began sliding it across her abdomen. With the ease of one who has performed the procedure hundreds of times, she moved the wand around efficiently, all the time watching the monitor.

Finally, she found the angle she was looking for. "There!" she said triumphantly.

Ziva looked over at the monitor. "Where? I cannot see anything!" she said anxiously.

"Well, the little darling is only small at this point, but if you look here," she pointed at the screen, "you can see an arm, and the torso. Come on sweetie," she encouraged, "let's show mommy your beautiful face." She moved the wand around a little further and once again found the angle. "And there… we… are!"

Ziva gasped; this little person was growing inside her. Her eyes welled up, and she fought them desperately. This was a happy moment dammit!

Alison looked up and saw the struggle on her face. "Ziva, its okay to cry. This is real, this is happening. And from what I can see, everything is where it should be. Baby is developing at the right pace; I'd say you are about 9 weeks gone from what I'm seeing, and what your records show."

"My baby," she breathed, her eyes glued to the monitor. Suddenly, a soft throbbing sound filled the room. "What's that?"

"That, my dear Ziva, is the sound of new life."

* * *

Ziva left her appointment with her diary full of future appointments, handbag full of literature on the do's-and-dont's of motherhood (she was disgusted, but not surprised, to see that kickboxing was out of the question) and a mouthful of chocolate that Laura the receptionist had given her on her way out the door. Held tightly in her hand were prints from the ultrasound; she had a few copies made and intended to give one to Gibbs the first chance. She glanced at her watch; it was a little after six and she needed to move if she was going to make it to Neal's by seven. Unlocking her car door, she threw her handbag onto the passenger seat, sat in the driver's seat and pulled one of the photos out of the envelope. Tracing her finger lightly over the baby's slightly distorted features, her heart swelled with love. Placing both hands on her belly, she whispered, "Whatever happens, I will protect you. Your mama loves you very much."

* * *

Neal Gardner was in a fabulous mood. The first case he'd led since coming to NCIS had been a success and his beautiful girlfriend was on her way over. He hadn't been this happy in… well, he couldn't remember the last time he was so happy with his lot in life. Stepping out of the shower, he said to his reflection, "Pal, I don't know what you did to deserve this girl, but she's the one! Don't fuck it up, or you'll have me to deal with." Laughing at his own daftness, he quickly shaved and ran his fingers through his hair, before moving into his bedroom and dressing.

At ten to seven, a knock on the door announced Ziva's arrival. Bounding across the room, he quickly unlocked the door and flung it open. "Hello gorgeous," he grinned, and reached for her.

"Neal," she breathed, and fell into his embrace. They hugged tightly for a moment, before he pulled away slightly, placed a hand behind her head and drew her in for a kiss. They kissed softly but passionately for a few minutes until the oven timer went off.

He pulled away reluctantly. "Saved by the bell," he quipped, smiling.

"You cooked?" she said amazed.

"Well… technically I reheated. _But_ I did take it out of the plastic containers first, as well as followed all the instructions to the letter!" Pulling her into the apartment, he kicked the door shut behind her before going into the kitchen. Checking his handiwork, he announced, "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Want a wine babe?"

"No thank you, just water for me tonight please," she replied, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

"Why? You guys on call?"

"No no, it was Ducky's suggestion that I stay off the alcohol while I'm still feeling a little off colour."

"You're still feeling sick? Babe why didn't you say something, we could've postponed," he chastised gently.

"But that's the thing, I am not sick anymore," she said, not meeting his eyes.

"Right, now I'm confused." Neal pulled a comical face, trying to diffuse the tension he could see building in Ziva's eyes.

"It is just … well, I have some news, but I don't know how you're going to take it. I mean it's not the worst news in the world but for some it might be, I don't know and I certainly do not wish to throw this fish in your lap and expect you to cook it..."

"Ziva," he said, cutting her tirade short. "You're babbling. Fish in my lap? Hell, I don't even know what idioms you're confusing but you aren't making any sense. Love, just tell me what's going on?"

Taking a deep breath, she pulled a picture from her pocket and handed it to him. "I am having a baby. Your baby. We are having a baby Neal."

Neal stood there dumbfounded, looking at the picture in his hand. He could kind of make out an eye… and was that a hand? His silence was torture to Ziva, and she forced herself to keep calm. Finally he spoke: "But, Ziva… how? I mean, we've always been careful…" his voice trailed off.

"The doctor thinks I am about 9 weeks gone. That would put it around the time of McGee's birthday, when we all went out."

_Flashback:_

_They'd had an amazing evening. Neal was finally able to see just what these people meant to Ziva, and what she meant to them. Tony and Abby had bailed him up in the corner, quite drunk, and told him in no uncertain tones that if he hurt her, Tony would kill him and Abby would dispose of the evidence. He had had to pinky-promise, cross his heart and swear on his grandmother's grave that he would do nothing to make his girl cry. Ziva rescued him, laughing, and informed him in front of the others that he needn't worry about them; if he made her cry she knew 20 ways to kill someone with a paperclip. _

_They'd eventually left; Gibbs pouring them all into cabs and sending them home. Neal had gone back to Ziva's apartment and they had begun kissing in the cab. They made it upstairs, barely, and into the apartment, but made it no further than the living room. They had made love passionately, caught up in the heat of the moment, before falling asleep, sated, in each others arms._

_The next morning, Neal realised with a start that he had not used a condom, but Ziva told him not to worry. It was then that she told him about Somalia and that ever since her body's cycle had been somewhat irregular, so the chances of conception were small. He realised just what it had taken for her to tell him, and the fact that she trusted him with such a monumental secret touched him no end. Then and there he knew they were meant to be together._

_End flashback._

"But… you said you couldn't conceive!" he said desperately.

"I said the chances were low," she corrected, not meeting his eyes.

"Ziva, think about it! I mean, we've only been dating a few months, are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her.

"Take your hands off me Neal," she said quietly.

He responded by tightening his grip. "Dammit Ziva, talk to me!" he shouted.

Without thinking, her fight response kicked in. She reached up, grasped his left wrist tightly, brought her knee into his gut and flipped him. She grabbed her bag and ran for the door.

As he lay on the floor, panting for air and in pain, he could've sworn he heard her sob, just as the door slammed.

* * *

Ziva sprinted down the stairs, pulling her car keys out of her pocket as she went. She flew out the door of the building and unlocked her car, before letting herself in and locking the door behind her. She rested her head on the steering wheel and let the emotions of the last few minutes flow through her. After a moment, she composed herself and started the car, intent on driving to her last safe refuge.

* * *

Gibbs carefully worked the wood beneath his hands. Ever since Ziva had told him her news, he'd been mentally making plans for what he could make the child – his grandchild, he mused. The thought brought a small smile to his face; part of him couldn't wait to hear the sound of a little one again, the other part ached for his own little one. He pushed thoughts of Kelly to one side – she was then and this is now. Ziva was one of his 'kids' and he'd be there with her as much as she would let him.

The day had been quite a bad one for Gibbs. That afternoon he had attended the execution of a particularly evil serial killer, one that he and DiNozzo had brought down shortly after Blackadder had left the team. Sean Bauer had raped, mutilated before finally murdering 9 Marines – male and female – before they had caught him. The man's final appeals had done their course and the execution went ahead as planned. Gibbs very rarely attended these things; he considered his role in the process done once the perp was behind bars, but this one was essential. He and DiNozzo went for weeks without sleep and often meals to catch him, so to see justice finally done felt right.

He paused in his sanding to collect his thoughts and pour another shot of bourbon. Mid-sip, he heard the revving of an engine and the screeching of brakes. He reached for his gun, before hurrying up the stairs. His front door flew open, and there in the doorway was Ziva.

Checking the safety, he tossed his gun onto the hall stand. "What's happened?"

"He… doesn't… want…" she choked, before the sobs took over her body and she crumbled to the floor.

Understanding instantly, his eyes darkened and his primal instincts to protect began to roar. Pushing aside the feelings for a moment, he leant down and pulled her to her feet, before half-carrying, half-dragging her to the couch, and holding her close.

"'M sorry," she mumbled, her face still buried in his chest.

"Nothin' to be sorry about my girl," he murmured, planting gentle kisses on the top of her head and rubbing her back soothingly.

"I just thought… he's a good man, you know?" she hiccupped, and pushed herself upright a little.

"He's a good agent," Gibbs said diplomatically. Now was not the time for her to see just what he really thought of Gardner.

She looked at him through glassy eyes. "You do not think he is a good man?"

"I think he's an asshole if he's gonna dump you just because you got pregnant," said Gibbs bluntly.

"But we did not plan this; you cannot blame him for being surprised!" she cried.

"True, but you're not teenagers, you're adults. And he needs to grow up." Gibbs knew his tone was harsh but he didn't care. "Ziva, you've known since you got back from Africa that there was every chance you _wouldn't_ have a baby. I've seen you with kids; you're great. You'll make a great mom. You've been given an opportunity and he's being an ass."

"I admit, I was not expecting him to propose or anything, but Gibbs… he looked as though I'd just told him I was a man! He was shocked – but not in a good way. I really think he does not want this." Her voice cracked and she gave way to tears once more.

"Then he's more of a jerk then I first thought. Honey, look at me," said Gibbs firmly, placing two fingers under her chin. "What do you want?"

"I want this baby," she replied without even thinking.

"Then that's what'll happen." Gathering her in his arms once more, he held her tightly. "We'll all be with you, every step of the way. I will never let anything happen to you, or to my grandchild."

* * *

Neal paced around his apartment in a trance. His dinner had gone to ruin and he didn't care. He'd wrecked what should've been a great evening. "Fuck fuck FUCK what the hell have I done?" he berated himself out loud. "She tells me she's pregnant and all I can say is 'I thought we were careful'! Dumbass, you don't deserve her." He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialled her number. "Come on girl, answer answer," he prayed.

"_Hi, you have reached Ziva David. I am not able to take your call right now, but please leave a message."_

"Dammit!" he bellowed and hurled his phone across the room. A flash suddenly hit him; he knew where Ziva was. Grabbing his jacket and his keys, he bolted from the apartment and down to his car.

* * *

Gibbs covered the young woman with a blanket and smoothed her hair back from her face. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion so he had picked her up and carried her upstairs to his bed. His heart ached for her; he wished there was something he could do to make it better.

He took himself back downstairs and poured a cup of coffee and headed back to the living room to retrieve his service weapon. He was about to go back upstairs to his room to stand guard over his girl, when there was a knock at the door.

Secure in the knowledge that people who really _knew_ him, knew his door was always unlocked, he moved stealthily towards the front of the house, gun at the ready. He snuck a peek through the windows next to the door and steadied himself, before opening.

"Agent Gibbs, if I could just have a minute.." Neal suddenly lost his nerve when Gibbs pulled his service weapon out from behind his back and clicked the safety off.

"You wanna tell me what the hell you think you're doin' here Gardner?" he growled, eyes hard and cold.

"I need to speak with Ziva sir, I've made a terrible mistake!"

"Damn straight you have, and the second one you made was comin' here. Now, anything you wanna say to Ziva you say to me first, and if I think it's alright I'll consider letting you see her. Clear?"

"Crystal, Agent Gibbs." Neal took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Ziva came over earlier, and told me… that is, we're having a baby, and I… I fucked up sir," he finished in a pained whisper.

"Yeah, you did." Gibbs tone was calm, and for some reason that unnerved Neal more.

"I need to make it right Gibbs, I love her. I really do, you probably don't believe me and you have every right, but I wanna fix this… I wanna be with her," he pleaded.

"You love her, but as soon as she tells you this you shit yourself?" Gibbs snorted. "You're a great agent Gardner, but a fucking coward. Did you ever stop to think that she's just as scared as you are? Huh?"

Neal backed away from the door, and sat down on the steps, his head in his hands. "You're right Gibbs, I'm a coward," he said quietly.

For some reason, this admission touched Gibbs, but he wouldn't back down – not now. "So whaddya gonna do about it?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I want to make this right, Gibbs. I… I know we're not ready for marriage or anything like that, but I really care about her and I wanna be there for her… and for the baby." He pulled a crumpled ultrasound image out of his pocket and handed it to Gibbs, who smiled inwardly.

"Good answer Gardner," he said gruffly, flicking the safety back on his gun and tucking back into his sweats. "Tell you what. Come over tomorrow and you can talk to her, _with me_ in the room. If she doesn't wanna see you, you leave. No arguments. Got that?"

"That won't be necessary Gibbs," a soft voice said from behind them.

"Ziver honey, you should be asleep," he gently reproached.

"I woke up when I heard you both arguing." The men exchanged guilty looks. Ziva stepped out onto the porch. "Neal, is this true what you said? That you want to be there with me?"

"Every word of it," he said fervently. "I was an ass before, I never should've let you walk away like that."

"Yes you were an ass," she said shortly. "How can I trust that you will not do this again?"

"You just have to believe that I love you and never want to hurt you. Can you?" He reached out a hand to her.

She looked to Gibbs who smiled softly and nodded his head. "You do remember that I know twenty different ways to kill with a paperclip? On the drive here I think I have discovered another three. Do not give me a reason to try them out." She was smiling as she said it, and took the proffered hand.

Neal let out a throaty laugh and pulled her towards him in a cuddle. "You're gonna have to teach me how you did that flippy-thing you know that? 'Cause in another life that would've been awesome."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

_4 months later…_

Ziva stood in front of her bathroom mirror in her underwear, critically assessing her reflection. She'd had her 24 week checkup the previous week, and was noticing more and more changes within her body – not all of which she was pleased about. Neal walked into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around her middle, hands rubbing a gentle pattern over her swelled abdomen.

"I look like that tyre man… you know, the one with all the rolls on him?" grumbled Ziva.

"You mean the Michelin man? No you don't hon, you look fine!" he laughed, and spun her around to face him.

"I am not fine Neal, I am huge! And Alison informs me there is still more growing to happen. I can barely see my feet as it is, and they are hurting so much."

"Ducky says its fluid retention and it's normal," he tried to reassure her.

"Oh wonderful, you have been speaking to Ducky behind my back!" she spat, pulling away from his embrace.

"Out of concern Ziva. He asked me yesterday how you were going, 'cause he hasn't seen you for a few days. We weren't gossiping babe," he replied, reaching for her once more.

"I'm sorry, my love, I know that you wouldn't do that. It is just that… it's like none of these people have ever seen a pregnant woman before!" She rested her head on his chest and sighed.

"They love you and care about you sweetheart. To them, this is just another addition to the family!" Neal had long accepted that the MCRT were a tight-knit bunch, and seeing as how none of them had relatives close by, they'd morphed into a family of sorts, with Gibbs the patriarch.

_Flashback:_

_The team had gathered at Ziva's apartment for dinner, the weekend after she and Neal patched things up. Ziva had not returned to work after her initial obstetrician's appointment; choosing instead to spend a little bit of time on her own to gather her thoughts and get her head around the fact that she really was going to be a mother. _

_The Saturday night, everyone arrived early; each of them eager to get Ziva on her own and find out what all the secrecy was for. Abby, Tony and McGee were each convinced that her and Neal had had a falling out, and each of them arrived with a different game plan: Tony was a fan of torture, Abby just wanted to outright kill him, and McGee planned to hack his computers and bank accounts and effectively send him back to the Dark Ages. Ziva had laughed and told them not to worry; that she and Neal were fine, and he was coming for dinner that night, so they'd better behave themselves. Each of her teammates had grudgingly agreed, all the while privately continuing their elaborate schemes of revenge._

_Before long, all were gathered around Ziva's dinner table, talking and laughing. Ziva looked around at each of the faces, and felt that now-familiar surge of love as she caught their eyes individually and smiled. A hand snaked under the table and squeezed her knee; Neal was seated to her left, silently offering up his support once again. Taking a deep breath, she tapped her fork on her water glass to get everyone's attention. Once the chatter had died down and six sets of eyes were looking expectantly at her, she began to speak. "Thank you all for coming tonight; I wanted you here because I – that is, we – have some news. Two of the people at this table have known for some time, but you are my family and I wanted to share with you as well. Our little family is going to grow by another member. Neal and I are having a baby."_

_There was silence for a split second, before the table erupted in catcalls, cheering and squeals from Abby. The barrage of questions began and conversation went on at the table once more. Gibbs had raised his glass in a silent toast to Ziva, winked at her and taken a sip. She flushed slightly, and raised her own glass in reply._

_The evening wore on and it was close to midnight before everyone took their leave, each of them delivering more hugs, kisses and words of congratulations to Ziva; and handshakes along with pointed looks to Neal, who accepted the glares with meek humility before quietly vowing to each of them his intent on doing the right thing. _

_End flashback._

Ziva wiggled out of Neal's arms and began the process of getting ready for the day. "If I could be on field work still it might not be so bad. Riding the desk is terrible!"

"Hey! Be thankful you're not stuck in MTAC for the next week!" Neal playfully smacked her on the bottom before escaping to the adjoining bedroom before she could retaliate.

"Pig! At least if I were in MTAC I could be giving the orders to shoot," she called back.

"Yeah, and then you'd be rippin' them a new one 'cause they didn't make the shot properly," he laughed.

"Well… maybe you're right," she conceded, rubbing the oils Abby had sourced for her over her bump.

"Remember doll, hell hath no fury like a pregnant woman scorned."

She moved as quietly as she could to the doorway of the en suite and lobbed a tube of moisturiser at Neal's head before ducking back around the corner, the yelp of surprise assuring her that her aim was still good.

"Okay, okay, point taken – no more pregnancy jokes, no more hormonal jokes, and so help me God if I finish the ice-cream again." He appeared in the bathroom doorway, hands held in the international sign of surrender, a truly insincere pout plastered on his face.

She pushed him backwards, all the way over to the bed and pinned him on his back, straddling his torso. Leaning forward, she licked her lips suggestively and said in a throaty voice, "And don't forget the peanut butter," before planting a kiss on his lips and rolling off him.

* * *

Today was it; his own personal D-Day. He'd been watching the whole team for weeks in preparation, and it was going to be now or never. It had been a close one, deciding whom to take, but he'd finally chosen. He knew her routine by heart, knew the whole team's routines, and was looking forward to the next stage. It was now T-minus 2 hours and counting. He was ready.

* * *

Ziva and Neal arrived at work together, and went up to the bullpen, stealing a quick kiss before the elevator doors opened and they went their separate ways. Approaching her desk, she noticed a large bright red box sitting in the middle of it; McGee and DiNozzo their faces a picture of innocence.

"What is this?" she asked them, dropping her handbag on the floor next to her chair.

"Um… a box?" said Tony helpfully.

"Yes I can see that Tony," she snapped, "but where did it come from?"

"The box store?" deadpanned McGee.

She glared at both of them. "You are not helping!"

"We've been sworn to secrecy," said Tony, miming zipping his lips shut.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," she replied. "Abby."

Abby had been more than a little excited at the news that Ziva was expecting. So much so that not a week went by without some kind of little present mysteriously appearing whenever Ziva was not at her desk. From a pacifier featuring a skull and crossbones base, to baby clothes in all sizes and colours, to treats for Ziva – Abby was going a little overboard, but could not be talked out of it. So Ziva let her go and just enjoyed the little surprises.

She sighed, smiling, and pulled the lid off the box. Inside lay a knitted mohair baby blanket and a teddy bear. She pulled them out, tears pooling in her eyes. "Oh, they're beautiful," she whispered. Turning on her heel, she hurried over to the elevator to go and see her favourite forensic scientist.

The boys looked at each other, completely nonplussed. "Since when does Ziva cry over a stuffed animal?" asked Tony.

* * *

Fifteen minutes of tears, squeals, giggles and cuddles with Abby, and Ziva was back in control. All the same, she did send a sly text message to McGee, asking him to put the bear and blanket back in their box and somewhere out of her line of vision.

She went back up to the bullpen, experiencing a craving for something rich and decadent. Crouching carefully beside her desk, she grabbed her purse out of her bag and stood up again.

"I am going for some… what did Abby call it? Sugar and fat?" said Ziva to her teammates. "Would either of you like something?"

"Oh oh oh! You're going to the donut shop aren't you?" replied DiNozzo excitedly. "Can you get me one of those big chocolatey things, like the one you had yesterday? That was awesome!"

"Certainly. And for you Tim?"

"Whatever's going Ziva, I'm easy. The boss is in with the director, has been for almost an hour, so you might wanna grab him somethin' too," smiled McGee, pulling his wallet out.

"Put your money away please McGee, it is my yell today." She pushed the outstretched hand holding the folded bills away.

"I think you mean 'shout' Zee, and thanks for that! I'll get the next coffee run."

Checking that her ID was in her pocket, she caught the elevator down to the main foyer and left the Navy Yard.

* * *

Ziva was still adjusting to walking around outside without her usual arsenal of weapons attached to her body. The bowie knife she usually had strapped to her left ankle had been regretfully abandoned as she could no longer access it easily, her belly getting in the road. The holster she normally wore under her clothes no longer fit her comfortably; she'd had to forgo that one as soon as she started showing. And her guns… well, Gibbs had been very firm on that one. She did manage one small consolation though – a small flick knife with a three inch blade sat snugly on the waistband of her jeans, not visible to the naked eye.

The day was beautiful; one of those crisp autumn days that just begs to be enjoyed. Ziva tilted her head towards the sun, closing her eyes for a moment and revelling in the warmth it provided. She dutifully made her rounds of the donut shop, selecting a variety of sweets and coffees sure to please her team, and strolled back down the street to the Yard.

Her mind kept playing over her conversation with Neal this morning; she smiled to herself. She could gain 100 pounds and shave her head and he would still call her beautiful, she thought happily. So wrapped up in her own thoughts was she that she didn't notice the SUV slowing down behind her. A man in jeans, a flannel shirt and a baseball cap leapt from the back door and caught her arm, knocking the tray of drinks out of her grasp.

Ziva started and dropped the bag of donuts, reaching for her knife. He twisted the arm he already had sharply and pushed a gun into the small of her back. "Try anything funny Agent David, and you won't see another day," he growled.

Unable to speak from a combination of fear and anger, she nodded, composing herself. "What is it you want with me?" she managed to ask, her voice not relaying how nervous she was. It was Somalia all over, she could feel it.

The man chuckled and pushed her towards the open door of the waiting vehicle. "Not a damn thing." He groped around in her pockets, found her NCIS identification and threw it, along with her purse and cell, out the car window as they sped off.

* * *

**Sorry kids, I know it's short... cliffie WOOOOO! But study is calling me, and even though I don't like it, it apparently likes me. Next chapter will be up asap I promise! Please review, I'm such a needy girl... xoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

Gibbs returned to the bullpen after his meeting with the Director desperate for a caffeine hit. "I'm goin' for coffee," he said to no one in particular, heading towards the elevator.

"No need Boss, Ziva's doin' the run for us, she should be back any minute," called DiNozzo cheerfully.

"Why's she doin' it? What's wrong with your legs DiNozzo?" growled the team leader.

"Uh… nothin' Boss. But she was craving some, and I quote, 'sugar and fat', and the last time I went on a mission for her I came back with the wrong thing, remember?"

"Oh yeah… speaking of which, how is your arm?" smirked Gibbs.

"Thanks for the concern Gibbs, nice to know you care," sulked Tony.

"When did she leave?"

"Almost half an hour ago," said McGee slowly.

"Where the hell was she goin' for snacks? Baltimore?" asked Tony.

"No, she's been going to that Donutland place that just opened up down the street a fair bit lately; it's only a ten minute walk at best."

Gibbs glanced at his watch; by his calculations she should've been back by now.

DiNozzo saw the worried look cross his Boss' face, and said airily, "She's probably gotten held up somewhere by some cutesy baby stuff. Or seen someone with a baby. Or talking to someone who _knows_ a baby –" He was interrupted by a smack to the back of the head. "Shutting up now boss. My point is, she's got that whole mother hen thing goin' on lately."

Gibbs nodded, acknowledging the truth in his senior agent's words. "If she's not back in ten minutes, call her and tell her to get her finger out. I'll be up in MTAC."

The words were barely out of his mouth when the elevator doors slid open. Three heads turned, expecting to see a very pregnant Israeli waddling towards them, balancing coffees and cursing them all. Instead, George from the Security Desk, walked towards them, paper bag in his hands and a solemn look on his face.

"George, what's up?" Gibbs greeted him.

"Agent Gibbs – a person just brought these in off the street. He said they were thrown out the window of a moving car." George carefully tipped the contents of the bag onto DiNozzo's desk. The three agents recognised the items as Ziva's purse, cell phone and identification. "He said he saw a man drag a pregnant woman into a dark SUV, but it happened too fast for him to do anything. Picked up the ID, saw it was ours so rushed it straight over."

Gibbs' face was expressionless; his eyes stony. "Where is this so-called Good Samaritan?"

"I had Andy Ricketts escort him to conference room one, I thought you'd like to talk to him." George's tone was gentle; his eyes were sad. He knew what this team meant to each other, and he'd known Gibbs since the team leader had been a probie.

"Thanks George, that's good work. DiNozzo, conference room with me. McGee, you go to the Director; tap into the security feed in the conference room and you watch with Vance. Until we know for sure what's going on, _nobody_ says anything to anyone else. Clear?"

"Crystal," said the two younger agents.

"Not a problem Gibbs," said George. "Let me know if I can help."

Gibbs nodded his appreciation and moved quickly, DiNozzo right behind him. McGee glanced once more at the items on the desk before sprinting up the stairs to the Director's office.

* * *

Slightly breathless, McGee barrelled into the Director's outer-office. "Cyn, I gotta see Vance right now!"

Cynthia's eyes widened; she'd never seen McGee look so agitated. "Go on in Tim, he's free."

"Don't let anyone in and hold his calls," was his response as he pushed the doors opened.

* * *

Gibbs and DiNozzo stood outside conference room one, the latter fidgeting and the older fuming. Finally DiNozzo couldn't take it any longer. "Boss, what the hell are we waiting for? Let's go!"

"Gotta wait til McGee gets the Director read in Tony. Give him another couple of minutes, then we'll go in," came the terse reply.

* * *

"Since when does anyone else give my secretary orders?" asked Vance lightly.

"Since we think Ziva's been abducted," came the blunt answer.

Vance quickly became all business. "What's happened?"

McGee moved behind the Director's desk, nudged him out of the road and began tapping at his keyboard. "Guy on the street saw a pregnant woman being pushed into a car, Ziva's ID and cell were thrown from the window as they drove off. Gibbs and DiNozzo are about to talk to him, just gotta tap the feed so you an' me can watch," he said distractedly.

"You in?" asked Vance. Ordinarily he would have protested at the younger man taking over his computer in such a manner, but he could see that McGee was not himself.

McGee picked up the remote and aimed it at the plasma. "We're in."

* * *

Gibbs opened the door to the conference room, DiNozzo hot on his heels. The young man sat at the table, an anxious look on his face.

"I'm Agent Gibbs, this is Agent DiNozzo," started Gibbs. "Tell us what happened."

"I was walkin' down towards the coffee shop and I saw this guy… he jumped out of this dark coloured SUV, like a Cherokee or somethin'? Anyway, he grabbed this chick, knocked all the coffees outta her hands; and she reached for somethin' on her hip but he said somethin' to her, I couldn't hear what, and then he twisted her arm real bad and pushed her into the car, and they drove off, an' all that stuff got thrown out the window," he babbled.

Gibbs looked murderous; DiNozzo thought it time he took over the interview. "Okay, well can you describe the woman to us," he coached.

"Well, she had dark brown hair, tied back in a braid…"

* * *

McGee and Vance watched the interview in silence. When Gibbs finally let the young man go, they turned to each other.

"What do you think Agent McGee?" asked Vance.

"I think he just saw it happen, he doesn't know anything else," replied McGee. Reality was beginning to set in; his team mate – his _friend_ – had been taken. "I'm gonna head back to my desk, see if I can track any security footage from the street," he said, heading for the door.

"Tim," called Vance, causing the younger man to stop in his tracks. "We _will_ find her."

McGee just nodded and kept going.

Gibbs and DiNozzo walked back through the bullpen as McGee arrived back at his desk.

"McGee!" barked Gibbs. "Run the sec–"

"Security footage from the street, try and get a make and licence plate of the car, on it already Boss," cut in McGee automatically, his fingers flying over his keyboard.

"DiNozzo, start trackin' down anyone that might have a grudge against Ziva."

"On it Boss."

Gibbs turned and ran up the stairs to the Director's office. Pausing half way up, he called out, "this is still need to know. Understood? Vance and I'll handle things." By things, the boys knew that he was referring to Neal Gardner. He was not going to take this well.

* * *

Gibbs stormed into Vance's office, not even bothering to look at Cynthia on his way. "Shit shit _shit_!" he roared, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Calm down Agent Gibbs," commanded the Director.

"How? How the _hell_ am I supposed to calm down? Our girl has been taken for Chrissakes!"

"True, but we have a job to do. Don't make me pull you from the case," warned Vance.

Gibbs glared at him, before turning and punching the wall.

"Feel better?" Vance asked sardonically.

"A little," he admitted. "Leon, we need as many bodies as we can on this case. Gotta find her before…" his voice faded, his silence voicing his greatest fear.

"Agreed Jethro. We need to inform Agent Gardner, however, before we go recruiting. It's not fair on him to find out that his girlfriend is missing by us going from team to team and pulling willing agents from their routine."

Gibbs sighed, and scrubbed his face with his hands. "Let's get him up here Leon; might as well do it now."

Vance nodded and picked up his phone. "Cynthia," he said a moment later, "get Agent Neal Gardner up here ASAP. Then send an email to all agents in the Yard and have them meet in the MCRT bullpen in ten minutes." He disconnected the call and pulled a toothpick out of his suit jacket.

* * *

**Again, this is riDONculously short and I do apologise, BUT I just wanted to get up another chapter! I'm working the next few days and my work Christmas party is on Saturday night, so it's pretty safe to say that Sunday is going to be spent very... quietly. Thanks to all those who keep alerting this! And the reviews; I will reply if I haven't already. Honest! xoxoxox**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

Though her mind was racing at a thousand miles a minute, Ziva forced herself to maintain a calm exterior. The hood over her head was suffocating; she tried to breathe evenly. "Where are you taking me?" she asked quietly.

"None of your damn business," the man snarled, nudging his gun into her ribs once more.

"Why have you chosen me?" she tried again.

"Shut up bitch, just shut up!" he cried a little hysterically.

"Bobby, you never said nothin' about her bein' pregnant," the driver said nervously. "I don't wanna hurt no baby."

"Relax Mikey, just drive. I'll take care of everything else." Bobby's tone was gentle when addressing the other man; Ziva could've sworn she felt the gun in her side ease off just a little.

Encouraged, she thought she'd try to appeal once more. "Please Bobby, I am sure you do not wish to harm my baby or myself. Why not take me back to the same place you picked me up and we can forget this has ever happened?"

Bobby moved slightly, and Ziva flinched as she felt the cold metal of the gun barrel press against her temple. She sharply drew her breath in. "I'm not stupid, Agent David. I know who you are and who you work for. Now, for the last time, _shut the fuck up_. Clear?" he hissed.

Ziva said nothing, instead simply offering up a silent prayer that her team would come through quickly, before anything could happen to either one of them.

* * *

Neal felt as though he was about to collapse. He looked at Gibbs and Vance; how could they be so calm at a time like this? Their tone was gentle, their motions sympathetic, and yet he was angry. Angry at Gibbs for letting something like this happen to his girl. Angry at himself too! He began berating himself inwardly, clenching his fists tightly as to maintain a modicum of control. Finally, he could take it no longer. He stood and calmly left the Director's office, and headed to the gym. He needed to release some anger; to do otherwise wouldn't help things at all. Heading in the direction of the punching bags in the corner, he began laying into one as if his life depended on it.

* * *

Gibbs watched Neal go; feeling for the younger man. Turning to the Director, he said, "We better get moving."

Vance just nodded, and followed Gibbs out of the office and onto the balcony overlooking the bullpen.

Close to thirty agents and staff had assembled in the MCRT bullpen, all of them curious as to what was going on.

Vance waited until the buzz had died down before speaking. "Thank you all for coming so quickly. We have a situation and time is of the essence.

"We have reason to believe that Special Agent Ziva David was abducted almost 40 minutes ago. She was last seen being forced into a dark SUV on Halliday Avenue, less than a block away from here. Agent Gibbs…?" He gestured for the other man to continue.

Gibbs stepped forward. "As I'm sure most of you are aware, Agent David is approximately 7 months pregnant. We are unaware who has organised this, if she was the primary target or merely bait for something bigger. At the moment, Agent DiNozzo is running lists of any possible suspects who may have a grudge against her, but as you know, Ziva's history with Mossad could mean this is an international situation.

"We are asking for anyone – _anyone_ – who is not currently working an active case to lend a hand. The sooner we find her, the better." He stepped back and sighed; not for the first time in recent years, he felt he was getting a little too old for the job.

Agent Porelli called out, "You got my team Gibbs – we're only on colds since O'Hare busted his leg. He can help McGee work the computers."

Gibbs nodded at Porelli; O'Hare's skill as a hacker was second only to his own younger agent.

"We're in too Gibbs," yelled Balboa from up the back.

"Keep in mind people, we do still have an agency to run," Vance reminded them. "All volunteers will report to Agent Gibbs' team, and to myself. Let's find her!"

* * *

The silence in the SUV was oppressive; the only sound Ziva could hear after a short while was the sound of her own breathing. She could feel herself begin to retreat to the safe space in her mind, and tried desperately to drag herself out of it. She strained her ears for any clues that might help her figure out her location, but apart from the occasional whoosh of passing traffic, there was nothing.

It had been close to an hour from the time she had been taken, to when the vehicle finally pulled up. The car door opened, and she was roughly yanked out of her seat. She stumbled as her feet hit the ground, but managed to stay upright; she was determined to maintain her dignity. Realising the futility of struggling, she allowed herself to be led through the building. Listening carefully once again, Ziva established that she must be in some kind of shed or warehouse; the echo of footsteps giving her some idea of the venue.

Finally, her captor came to a stop. He ripped the hood off her head, catching some of her hair in the process, and pushed her unceremoniously into a small room. She fell to the ground, landing on her knees, and immediately pushed herself upright once more.

'Bobby' grinned evilly, watching as she rushed towards him, anger flashing in her eyes. She got to within a few steps of him before he unleashed the contents of a can of mace.

She howled as the vicious substance hit her eyes and face at such a close range. "You asshole!" she screamed.

"You need to learn your place Agent David," Bobby said dispassionately. "I am going to have a lot of fun with you."

"You can rot in hell," she spat, hot angry tears streaming down her face. "I have no desire to take part in your _fun_. I have suffered at the hands of some of the best in the world; you cannot break me."

"Oh, it's not my intention to break you, Agent David," he replied. "There is only one person I wish to break. You are simply – how can I put this? – the _means_ to my end."

"And just who do you think you are going to break? You do know that we do not negotiate with terrorists," she said, the fire still burning in her belly, but the adrenaline beginning to wear off.

"I know that. But I also know that he'll do anything if it means protecting one of his own. Agent Gibbs has to suffer." With that, he turned and walked from the room. "You and I will chat again soon Agent David." He bowed mockingly before slamming the door shut.

Ziva ran at the door once more, and beat at it until her fists were bruised. Her eyes stinging, her throat hoarse and her hands numb, she slumped down onto the floor and fought the tears that were threatening to engulf her.

* * *

McGee was hard at work, trying desperately to follow the route that the mystery SUV had taken after Ziva was forced inside. So far, he'd been able to track it almost 4 miles, but the further it went from the city, the fewer traffic cameras he was able to find.

Gibbs strode into the bullpen; three coffees in hand. Depositing one on both DiNozzo and McGee's desk, he barked, "Sitrep!"

"Got the vehicle in question Boss," replied McGee shortly. "No licence plate of course, but I can tell you it's a late model Dodge Journey, probably a 2008 or 2009. Tryin' to find some stills that show the driver's face but nothin' yet."

"DiNozzo?"

"Surprisingly, Ziva's enemies list isn't as long as you'd think. Most of them are either overseas, or she's killed them." He gave a little smirk at the thought. "I've run most of the possibles through Interpol and Homeland Security; so far no one's raising any red flags."

"So that means we're probably looking domestic," Gibbs mused out loud. "Any threats been made against Ziva recently that we don't know about?"

"Boss, she wouldn't tell us even if there were," DiNozzo pointed out.

"McGee! Go through her emails, her phone records, her diary – anything that might give us a hint," said Gibbs.

"Gibbs I'm flat out with the security cameras. I can do one or the other; I can't do both!" he shot back, his temper flaring.

Gibbs stared at him, blue eyes meeting hazel. The team leader softened marginally as he saw the worry in the younger man's eyes. "Get O'Hare on the videos. Ziva wouldn't want someone she didn't know goin' through her private stuff," he said gruffly.

McGee held Gibbs' gaze a moment longer, before dropping his head and returning to his work. Picking up his phone, he dialled an extension. "O'Hare, it's McGee. Yeah, I'm sending you a few things to look at…"

While McGee was in conversation with the other agent, Gibbs turned to DiNozzo. "You okay?"

"Fine Boss. We _will_ find her," Tony replied, trying to convince himself as much as his boss.

"I hope you're right Tony."

* * *

**So... sorry about the delay in the update - will hopefully have another one in a few days! I know it's short and I apologise for that, but my head is in a pretty ordinary space at the moment... Anyhoo! Please read and review, I do love it. xoxoxoxo**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7.**

Ziva glanced at her watch; it had been almost 4 hours since she had been locked in this small room and she was getting antsy. She desperately needed to use the bathroom but refused to go in the corner like some animal. The door opened slowly; she glanced towards it warily.

Bobby walked in rubbing his hands together. "Well now Agent David, what do you say we get started?"

"I say that you are crazy," she replied bluntly. "I am not going to do anything with you. You will have to kill me first."

"No, not yet – that will come later," he said lightly, a grin sliding across his face once more. Ziva noticed that his eyes were slightly bloodshot, and his pupils were practically pinpoints; he was high. "What we need," he went on, "is a little present for Agent Gibbs."

"I could give you my earrings," she offered, purposely misunderstanding him, hoping to throw him off guard a little. "He gave them to me for my birthday, he would know where they came from," she lied.

"Not good enough I'm afraid." He began pacing the room, a predatory look crossing his features.

"You could take my photograph?" she suggested a little anxiously.

"Hold out your hand please Agent David," he ordered, his voice dangerously quiet.

"No."

"I said hold out your hand." He walked towards her, backing her into the wall. When she still didn't comply, he reached out and grabbed it. She struggled against him and tried to fight, but he was too strong. Pulling a pair of pliers out of his pocket, he moved quickly and ripped the fingernail of her index finger out. Her scream was swallowed up as he pressed his mouth against hers.

* * *

DiNozzo was ploughing through what felt like hundreds of Ziva's old case notes in an attempt to find something – anything – that might help them find her. McGee sat at her desk, going through all her emails and her electronic diary, looking for the same thing. Both men worked in silence, occasionally looking up and exchanging a quiet encouraging glance before getting back to it.

Neal Gardner entered the bullpen, his face pale but set in determination. "Where's Agent Gibbs?" he asked Tony.

DiNozzo glared up at him from his desk. "With the Director," he said shortly. "What do you want?"

"I want to help."

"Not gonna happen," said DiNozzo. "You're too close to the case, you can't be objective."

"Oh, and I suppose you guys can?" he fired back angrily.

"Yeah, we can. She's _our_ team mate, our friend. We've found her before and we'll do it again." Tony got up from behind his desk and stood right in front of Neal.

"She's my girlfriend, hell she's the mother of my baby!"

"Yeah – a baby that you didn't want to begin with. Until we can rule you out as a suspect you aren't getting within 50 feet of this case, do you understand?" DiNozzo moved right into Neal's space so the men were barely inches apart.

"You think I'd do something to hurt her?"

"I don't know – did you?"

Neal stepped back; Tony anticipated his next move before it even happened. As the fist came flying through the air, he grabbed it and twisted Neal's arm pinning him to the desk. "Try that again and I won't be so gentle. You got that?" he growled in the other man's ear. Neal nodded sullenly. Tony forced the pressure on the arm a little more before releasing it. "Get the hell outta here."

Neal stood up and glared at the other man. "Fuck you DiNozzo," he spat, before turning on his heel and storming away.

"Tony was that really necessary?" asked McGee softly.

"Hell man I don't know. I just feel like we're missin' something here and it's staring us in the face," he replied wearily. "I had to figure out if he was involved at all. I know it was a pretty shitty way to do it, but still…" his voice trailed off.

McGee squared his shoulders. "Rule 8. We gotta do what we gotta do, Tony. Doesn't matter who we piss off so long as we find her."

"Then lets start pissin' people off, Probie."

* * *

Ziva lay on the thin mattress in the dank room shivering and holding herself tightly. Her finger had finally stopped bleeding, but it throbbed incessantly. She cursed herself; she should have tried harder to fight. But then, she might have hurt the baby… she shook her head and tried to clear it. She had to stay focussed, for both their sakes.

* * *

Gibbs was behind his desk, staring blankly at his computer screen. His two agents were trawling through any and every possibility, whilst there were at least a dozen agents canvassing witnesses off the street, and searching the surrounding neighbourhood. DiNozzo had all but taken the lead on this case; he was on the phone constantly barking new orders to the volunteers; while McGee was his eager and capable Second, coordinating the BOLO's and technical side of it all.

George from Security wandered up to the bullpen once more, a grim expression on his face, a small parcel in his gloved hands. "Agent Gibbs," he said, coming to a stop in front of the lead agent's desk.

"What've you got for me George?" Gibbs eyed the bundle suspiciously.

"This just arrived for you; we scanned it as soon as it came in. I made sure to record anyone else that might've touched it, just in case there are prints."

Gibbs pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket, slipped them on and took the offending parcel. "Nothin' dangerous?"

George shook his head. "No sir; couldn't identify what's in there but there's definitely nothing dangerous."

Pulling his knife off his belt, he ran the blade along the seam of the paper and carefully peeled it off, revealing a small insulated box. "Grab an evidence bag for me will ya McGee?"

McGee retrieved the requested bag and took it over; his own curiosity getting the better of him. DiNozzo was less subtle, practically climbing over his desk to get to Gibbs.

The team leader eased the lid off the cooler and gagged a little. Lying on an ice-pack was a bloody fingernail. Next to it, in a sealed bag, laid a cell phone. "DiNozzo," he growled, "get all this down to Abby. I want prints, I want fibres and I want proof that this belongs to Ziva."

"On it Boss." Looking slightly sickened, but oddly defiant at the same time, he picked up the offending package and began to walk away. He'd barely made it a few steps when the cell phone began to ring.

"McGee!"

"Isolating the cell calls coming in and out of the building, on it Boss." McGee scrambled back to his desk and began typing furiously.

"Boss, you gonna answer it or you want me to?" asked DiNozzo.

"Package was addressed to me; means the call's for me." Gibbs took a deep breath to quell the sudden onset of nerves, before tearing the bag open.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"_Nice to speak with you again, Agent Gibbs. It's been a long time."_

"Yeah it sure has." Gibbs knew the voice from somewhere, but couldn't place it immediately.

"_You __**do**__ remember me don't you? You should; you questioned me enough times over the things my brother was accused of doing."_

It then hit Gibbs where he knew the mystery caller from. "Robert Bauer."

"_Ding, ding, ding! Give the man a cigar!"_

"What's all this about Bobby? Sean committed the murders; hell, you were at the trial."

"_You took the best thing that ever happened to me and had him killed. It's payback time Agent Gibbs,"_ Bobby laughed a little hysterically.

"Agent David is one of my team Bobby, nothing more. Why don't you let her go? It's me you're after." Gibbs fought to keep his rising temper under control.

"_Nice try Gibbs, but I know better. She's not going anywhere; in fact, she and I are going to get better acquainted a little later on."_

"So help me, if you hurt her any more…"

"_You'll what? Kill me? You gotta find me first! Seeya later alligator!" _With that last childish taunt, Bobby disconnected the call.

"Dammit!" Gibbs roared, hurling the phone across the bullpen.

"Gibbs I got a rough location on the call," said McGee tentatively.

"He won't be there McGee, he's just fuckin' with us," sighed Gibbs. Turning to DiNozzo, he jerked his head, and said, "Get moving." DiNozzo didn't need to be told twice; he hotfooted it to the elevators.

Balboa approached the team leader calmly. "So we got an idea on who this asshole is now. That's a good thing Gibbs. Means now we can watch him, wait for him to make a mistake."

Gibbs turned on him, eyes full of fury. "The reason we couldn't take his brother earlier is 'cause he was _too damn careful_. These guys don't make mistakes." His voice was low, almost deadly. "We always suspected that Bobby was the mastermind and Sean just the puppet; we just didn't have any proof. Now he's got Ziva and we got jackshit."

"Not quite," countered Porelli, joining in the conversation. "We have a vehicle and a suspect. O'Hare!" he snapped. "Get everything you can on Robert Bauer and get a BOLO out _pronto_."

"McGee, pull the case files on Sean Bauer. My case notes are still in my filing cabinet," said Gibbs.

Balboa pulled out his phone. "I'll get my crew back here; they can help go through the files."

Feeling somewhat more energised, Gibbs dashed up the stairs to update the Director.

* * *

Ziva lay on her back and did some gentle stretches to ease her aching muscles. The door to her prison eased open once more; she immediately tensed up. The tension turned quickly to caution as she saw who walked through the door.

"Your name is Mikey, is it not?" she asked.

He nodded a little. "I brought you a blanket and some water."

"Thank you," she said, taking the offering. He turned to walk away again. "Wait, please!"

Pausing, he looked over at her. "Yeah?"

"Do you know why this is happening to me?" she asked. She hated sounding so pitiful, but she had no desire to live through this sort of experience again.

"I dunno," he said, shaking his head. "All's I know is, Bobby's pissed at somebody an' you gotta be the one to cop it. I didn't wanna hurt anyone, but Bobby said it's 'cause they hurt Sean, an' they gotta pay."

"Who's Sean?"

"Our brother… well, my half brother. We got the same momma, but I got a different daddy to the others." Glancing at his watch, he said, "I gotta go now. I'll come back an' get the blanket in the morning. Don't tell Bobby that I done that for you, okay?" he pleaded, sounding almost childlike.

Ziva sensed a possible ally in the man. "I promise," she said solemnly.

A small smile lit his face. "When I know for sure Bobby's gone to sleep I'll bring you some food, okay? Your baby's gotta be hungry by now."

"I would like that very much, thank you Mikey," she smiled.

He returned the smile tentatively, before spinning around and hurrying from the room, closing it carefully behind him. Ziva wrapped the blanket around herself; suddenly, she could see a small light at the end of the tunnel. Comforting herself with that fact, she wriggled around to make herself a little more comfortable and tried to get some rest.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I won't be updating until after the weekend, so until then... have yourself a wonderful Christmas and I'll see you in a few days! Much love xoxoxoxoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

**So... Merry Christmas, Happy Boxing Day, etc etc. Not a particularly pleasant chappy coming up, some nasty themes BUT most of it is implied - I couldn't stomach writing the details and frankly I didn't think it was entirely necessary. So please read and review, and there'll be another update soon. Much love xoxo**

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* * *

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Chapter 8.

Gibbs paced impatiently outside Vance's office; ignoring Cynthia's sniffles and questions. Finally, the buzzer on her phone went, and she said softly, "You can go in now Agent Gibbs."

Vance was sitting behind his desk, his head in his hands. "I've just gotten off the phone with Fornell," he said wearily. "He saw the BOLO, said if we need anything we've just gotta ask."

Gibbs nodded tersely. "We know who it is now."

Vance's head shot up. "Who?"

Gibbs threw a file down in front of him. "Meet Robert James Bauer."

"Bauer… related to the Bauer you saw executed?"

"One and the same – the olderer brother to be exact. He's taken her to get to us – to me," Gibbs spat bitterly.

Vance leaned back in his chair digesting this new information. "How d'you know all this?"

"He sent me a cooler box with a fingernail and a cell phone."

Vance paled slightly. "Do we know if she's alive?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Didn't say, but I'm sure she is. His brother's MO was to take the victim and torture them, all the while baiting us like crazy. Once the vic was dead, they'd dump the body in a major public place, sit back and watch us chase our tails." His tone was nonchalant, but the underlying current of anger threatened to burst through at any moment.

Vance leafed through the file, familiarising himself with the case notes. "You think Robert's gone copycat?"

"I think _Robert_ was the brains; Sean was the dumbass who did whatever his older brother told him to. We always suspected he hadn't worked alone, hell I spent almost a week cooped up with the JAG prosecutors and his defence team convincing them of my theory, and he still wouldn't budge. Whatever hold Robert had over Sean was total."

"Any other siblings?"

The team leader nodded. "A younger sister who now lives in Tampa and hates her brother with a passion."

Vance snorted. "Not hard to see why. I assume she was their crash-test dummy when they were younger?"

"You assume right. He molested her from an early age, the usual story – tell anyone and I'll kill you, yada yada yada."

"No surprises there. Anyone else?"

"There's a half-brother," said Gibbs slowly, "name is Michael Potter. Bit slow from all reports. Lived in Jersey up 'til a few months ago, no one's seen or heard from him in a while."

"Update the BOLO's on the two of them, and track down any other relatives. Get any information you can on these two. Then get some sleep Gibbs, you look like shit. If I come in tomorrow morning and you're wearin' the same clothes and smelling like sawdust, I'll have your badge. Got it?" Vance smiled as he made that last comment, hoping to ease some of the tension that Gibbs was inevitably feeling. He knew just how much the team meant to the other man, and when one of his fold were in trouble he would always move the ends of the earth to get results.

Gibbs nodded, and offered up a small smile in reply. Without saying another word, he turned and left the office.

* * *

It was just after dawn when Mikey sneaked into the small room where Ziva was being held captive; thankfully she was sound asleep. Holding his breath, he eased the soft fleecy blanket from her body, and recovered her with a ratty stained sheet. She let out a soft sigh and he froze; she merely adjusted to the change and stayed asleep. He sighed with relief; maybe Bobby would let her go home today.

* * *

Neal Gardner slept very little, his mind filled with images of his girl. Her eyes, her smile, her quirks – all he wanted was to see her one more time, to tell her how he felt. He was frightened beyond belief that she had been snatched practically in their own backyard and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Around 4am he gave up and headed for the Navy Yard. If he couldn't help her, then he'd make damn sure he could help someone else.

Before settling himself at his own desk, he went to her desk in the MCRT bullpen and stood there in quiet reflection. Her favourite scarf was hung carelessly on the corner of her filing cabinet; he picked it up and held it to his nose, inhaling the scent of her perfume. He closed his eyes, and allowed the memories to swirl around him.

"She's completely nuts about you, y'know," a voice said from behind him.

Startled, he spun around, his hand flying to the weapon holstered on his hip. Seeing who it was, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Jesus McGee, you scared the hell outta me!"

McGee grinned slightly. "Sorry man, didn't mean to. I meant what I said though."

"Yeah well, that's a small comfort when the rest of your team thinks I had her pinched," he replied bitterly.

"That's not the case Gardner and you know it," the other agent reproached. "You know as well as I do that we gotta look at every option. Tony was just pushing your buttons, tryin' to gauge your reaction. You've been in the job for a long time, you know how it works."

Neal sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I know. I'm sorry. He was just a real asshole about it, y'know, and I feel bad enough. I just wanna help; I want her home!"

Another voice came from the shadows. "We do too man. Best thing you can do is help keep the agency runnin', means we can do our jobs too. We got so many people lookin' for her from practically every law enforcement agency for a hundred miles, we'll find her." DiNozzo stepped forward, and put his hand out. "Sorry for bein' such a prick yesterday."

Neal looked at the proffered hand, to the man it belonged to, before reaching out and grasping it.

* * *

Ziva awoke with a start; she had momentarily forgotten where she was. She glanced down at herself, the warm blanket that Mikey had provided for her the night before had been replaced at some stage. He had given her a little hope that this nightmare might be over before too long, she just had to go to work on him. She lay on the mattress slowly performing the yoga exercises her personal trainer had shown her, the gentle stretches reminding her that she was relatively unscathed and still very much alive.

The door to her prison flew open, and Bauer strode in. "Good morning Agent David," he said cheerfully.

"Good morning," she replied carefully. She did not wish to give him any more ammunition; rather her training had taught her to evaluate each situation and behave accordingly. The man in front of her was clearly a sociopath with a rampant drug habit, so Ziva felt that the best route at this time would be polite subservience. Her theory appeared to be correct; he smiled widely at her tone, but she was still a little unsettled.

"We have so much to do today!" he clapped his hands together in delight as he spoke. "Perhaps we should get started, don't you think?"

"I was rather hoping that by baiting Agent Gibbs the way you did yesterday, you had decided to let me go." She met his eyes and held his gaze for just long enough, before dropping her own gaze back to the floor. _Play it carefully_, she thought to herself.

The maniacal grin didn't budge an inch; in fact, it almost seemed to grow in front of her. "Oh no no _no_ my dear, Agent Gibbs needs to suffer. He needs to know how it feels to lose someone so close to his heart!"

"He has already suffered a great deal in his life," she replied softly. "You are not such a bad person that you would wish anymore heartache on a fellow man, are you?"

Bauer stepped forwards and slapped her across the face, the grin giving way to a snarl. "Don't presume to understand me Ziva. I'm in charge here, not you, so give your fucking mind games a rest. Now get up." He grabbed her by the arm and hauled her roughly to her feet. "We've got a show to put on."

* * *

By 7:00 am, the MCRT bullpen was a hive of activity, with all available agents running through each and every possibility of where Bauer may have her held. Gibbs was on the phone to every contact he had in the tri-state area to try and gather intelligence, while DiNozzo and McGee coordinated search parameters for the agents to work within. Vance popped in and out, mostly listening but occasionally offering pieces of advice to the agents involved.

Gibbs was glad of Vance's involvement; he knew that his own stake in this was too personal, too high, and he didn't want to risk losing his cool over something small, therefore getting benched for the duration. He kept glaring at the innocuous cell phone Bauer had provided, as if he could will it to ring. He would have given anything to hear Ziva's voice, if only just to silence the demons in his mind.

* * *

Ziva began feeling nervous as she was dragged out of the room into the main area of the warehouse. "Please, could you just tell me what I can do to make this right?" she begged. "I am not concerned for my own safety, but I am worried about my baby."

Bauer turned on her with a sudden ferocity, punching her repeatedly in the face and upper body. "Shut the fuck up already! You are nothing!" he screamed, spittle flying from his mouth.

Ziva twisted and turned to try and protect her precious package; she felt the familiar twang of panic coursing through her body. The agent inside her said to forget protocol, keep him off balance in the hope he'll make a mistake; but the mother in her screamed for her to remain calm and not to provoke him. Her vision began to blur slightly; she found herself back in the prison in Somalia. Shaking her head to clear it, she began screaming back at him and throwing her own fists.

The two scuffled for a few minutes, but Bauer was too strong for her. He dragged her to a low bench, hauled her upon it and strapped her down. She continued to fight regardless, hurling insults at him where her fists were unable to do any damage.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Bauer stood back slightly breathless. He pulled a trolley over next to the bench, and set up a laptop and webcam on top of it. Reaching for his cell phone he dialled.

* * *

Gibbs had almost managed to forget about the phone sitting in the corner of his desk, until it rang.

Leaping to his feet, he gestured for his team, plus the other two team leaders and Vance, to come and listen. McGee sat behind his computer and began the phone trace, fingers flying across the keyboard.

Gibbs flipped the phone open, and hit the Speaker button. "Yeah, this is Gibbs."

"_When the fuck are you going to wake up and smell the coffee Gibbs?" _Bauer snarled down the phone.

"What do you mean?" asked Gibbs, willing himself to remain calm.

"_I'm gonna send through a link to your email, and you're gonna watch. Trust me, I'll know if you don't. When you've watched it; you make your next move. Or should I say, your first move. You've been damn lazy, you know that? I'm disappointed." _

"Bobby I can't make a move until you tell me what you want."

A hysterical laugh flew down the line; it made the hairs on the back of Gibbs' neck stand on end. _"You have to make it right. Sean didn't deserve to die. His blood is on your hands you sonofabitch!" _The call disconnected before Gibbs could reply.

Vance looked at McGee hopefully. "Did you manage a trace?"

McGee shook his head regretfully. "Have a tentative location again, but he's got some kind of blocker on there, keeps me bouncin' halfway around the world. We might be able to crack it, but it'll take time."

"Shit!" swore DiNozzo, punching his filing cabinet.

"DiNozzo!" barked Gibbs, but the usual sting wasn't in his voice.

"I'm not gonna apologise Boss, 'cause I'm not sorry," came the retort. "This fucker's brother had us by the short and curlies ten years ago, and now this guy just gets to play with us? That's bull, and you know it."

"I know Tony, I know," Gibbs said tiredly. Turning to McGee, he said, "When this email comes in, I want you and O'Hare on it. Give the phone thing to Abby; somethin' tells me this email is not what she should be seeing."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than his email alert went off. Crowding around his desk, the agents waited in anticipation. Taking a deep breath, Gibbs opened the email and clicked on the link.

A small video screen opened in the middle of the monitor; Ziva was lying strapped down on what looked like one of Ducky's tables (McGee hastily chased that thought away). She was swearing and sobbing; the agents were all relieved to see that she was still alive.

Bauer stepped into the picture, leaned in front of the camera and said, "Enjoy the show, Agent Gibbs." He casually stepped back to where Ziva was lying and ripped at her skirt, revealing the lacy bikini knickers she secretly loved wearing. Porelli and O'Hare stepped away; they didn't need to see any further. McGee, DiNozzo and Vance didn't move; neither did Gibbs. The four men could only sit and watch in horror as their team mate – their friend, their sister – was raped.

Gibbs sat unmoving at his desk, watching as the scene unfolded. An anger not felt since Shannon and Kelly had been taken from him began to pulse through his body until he could feel himself trembling with the effort to contain it. Whatever it took, he vowed silently, he would get his revenge on this animal. And Ziva would never be in danger again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9.**

As soon as she felt her clothing being torn away from her, Ziva gave up fighting. She knew it would do no good, and the less she struggled, the less chance there was of him enjoying himself. She closed her eyes tightly, and began to pray once more.

* * *

McGee and O'Hare worked together effortlessly; Gibbs thought that if the circumstances were different, it would've been great to see the teams pooling their resources in such a manner. As it were though, O'Hare was respectfully quiet, speaking only to McGee or to Agent Porelli, his team leader, and always referring any decisions to McGee.

DiNozzo was strangely quiet, working with a fierce efficiency that ordinarily would've had the team asking where the practical joke was. He only spoke when spoken to, and even then he was short and to the point. Gibbs knew how close he was to Ziva; for all their bickering and carry-on, the two were as thick as thieves. The fact that he wasn't trying to lighten the mood with any smart-ass remarks or quotes was the giveaway that he gravely feared for his friend's safety.

Vance had completely outdone himself as far as Gibbs was concerned. He had a Tactical Response Team on standby, ready to go at a moment's notice. He had also arranged for the local PD's to be scouring any and all places that Bauer might be hiding out; and had also gone down to Abby's lab armed with a giant Caf-Pow and a sincere promise to leave no stone unturned in the hunt for their missing agent. He'd returned later with a bruise forming on his arm where she had punched him for keeping her in the dark for so long, and also a red cupid's bow on his cheek where she had kissed him in gratitude for the drink. Gibbs had allowed himself a small grin at that, knowing full well that as soon as he went to see Abby he'd be in twice the amount of trouble.

Gardner hovered on the perimeter, trying his best to be helpful whilst maintaining a good distance from the case. He'd done food runs, and coffee runs, and fielded the calls that were coming in for his own team. He'd taken Tony's words to heart; Team Gibbs were Ziva's best chance of getting out of this alive, so he threw himself into the Agency.

* * *

Mikey had stood in a darkened corner of the warehouse watching his brother violate Ziva. Angry tears began to run down his cheeks; he didn't bother trying to wipe them away. This was not right, not right at all. Bobby had told him that they'd hold her for a bit, maybe knock her around – he never said anything about… _this_. Agent David was somebody's daughter for God's sake! If anyone ever touched his little Julie like that… he shuddered just at the thought. No, this was bad. He had to do something about it.

* * *

It was late afternoon on the third day of her captivity. The previous night, Mikey had come into her room, as was becoming routine, with some food and water. He had stayed longer than he had in the past, chatting a little about this and that. Ziva was incredibly grateful for the company; she could see that he was uncomfortable about the situation, but just didn't know what to do about it. Before he had left, he'd asked about her job. She had been a little mystified as to why he wanted the information, but told him anyway, comfortable in the knowledge that she had very little to lose.

Ziva was once again strapped to the table, this time Bauer taking a perverse delight in playing with her knife – on her skin of course. None of the cuts were deep, but they were bad enough to sting when he rubbed salt into them. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out; she knew she had to keep calm so as not to agitate the baby.

She closed her eyes as Bauer made yet another nick into her olive skin; forcing herself to breathe evenly, mentally chanting her yoga mantras over and over. A hiss of pain escaped her lips; this cut had gone a lot further than the others.

Bauer smiled at the response he had elicited. "That one hurt, didn't it Agent David," he said softly.

Ziva didn't respond, instead choosing to turn her head away from him.

He grabbed her chin and twisted her head back towards him, forcing her to look at him. "You _will_ answer when I speak to you," he growled.

She stared back at him, her eyes glazed over and appearing to look right through him. "Kiss my ass," she finally whispered. The blow to her face was not unexpected, but it still managed to take her by surprise.

Mikey stood once again in a darkened corner of the warehouse, watching as his half-brother tortured this remarkable woman. Moving silently, he exited the building and ran to the gates of the industrial estate they were housed in. Enough was enough; he wasn't strong enough to take Bobby on but he thought he knew someone who could.

* * *

It had been amongst the longest days of Gibbs' life – three days of their girl missing, with only tantalising hints as to where she was. All the leads they had found and followed had proved to be useless, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to lose hope that they'd find her soon.

He had suggested half-heartedly to his team that they head home for a shower and some much needed sleep, but the glares from his two younger agents put paid to that idea. Rising from his desk, he decided to leave in search of coffee. He'd barely made it to the elevator when the cell phone Bauer had provided him with began to ring.

Running back to the bullpen, he signalled the boys once more that a phone call was coming through. Flipping the phone open, he again put it on speaker.

"Yeah, this is Gibbs."

"_Is this Agent Gibbs of the Navy investigative place?"_ an unfamiliar voice asked.

"Who is this?" Gibbs growled.

"_My name is Michael Potter sir. I need your help."_

"Michael… you're Bobby's brother right?"

_Half-brother sir. Bobby's doin' bad things to Miss David, and I don't like it."_

Sitting up a little straighter, Gibbs moderated his voice. "What's going on Michael?"

"_He's got her tied up, an' he's doin' all sorts of mean things to her. You gotta come an' get her Agent Gibbs!" _cried Mikey.

"Where are you?" asked Gibbs urgently.

"_The warehouses on MacIntosh Drive, just outside of Bowie."_ He lowered his voice to just above a whisper; Gibbs had to strain to hear him. _"I'm scared of him Agent Gibbs."_

"Don't worry about a thing Michael, we'll take care of everything," assured Gibbs. "Where are you exactly?"

"_I'm out near the security gate, I don't think he seen me leave."_

"Good. Stay where you are Michael, we're on our way." Gibbs disconnected the call, and grabbed his gun and badge. He started to call out to his team, only to find that they were geared up and waiting at the elevators. Pulling his regular cell out of his pocket, he dialled Vance. "Yeah, it's me," he said after a moment. "We're on again."

* * *

Ziva longed for some sort of respite; even Mikey's clumsy ministrations would have been better than nothing. Instead, she was still strapped to the bench, only now it had been elevated to an angle that meant she was involuntarily slipping against her binds. This caused her no small amount of pain, yet she continued to attempt to block it out of her mind. Chanting the prayers of her childhood, singing nursery rhymes and reciting the phonetic alphabet backwards helped a little; it also helped her focus on her little baby, whose movements were becoming less and less frequent.

Bauer was becoming increasingly frustrated with his attempts to break the woman before him. At first it had been about destroying Gibbs, but this woman was different to his other victims. She had fire, and spunk – she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cries of pain. He couldn't understand it, and it was starting to piss him off.

He played with his Zippo lighter, casually creating the flame then extinguishing it. Ziva watched, hypnotised it seemed, by the movement. He flicked another flame out of the lighter, this time allowing it to burn for almost a minute. Without warning, he reached forward and seared the hot steel into her exposed ankle. She bit down on the scream that threatened to leave her mouth, only allowing a faint whimper to escape.

"You stupid bitch! Why won't you scream?" he roared, starting to beat her again, this time right across her midsection.

"Asshole! Just leave me alone!" she cried in pain, her stomach contorting as the baby instinctively tried to shy away from the abuse.

"This is bullshit," he spat in disgust. He pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants. "You should be familiar with this model, Agent David," he purred, his demeanour changing dramatically. For some reason, she was more afraid of the sudden mood swings than she was of the gun in his hand.

He began to prowl around the room, caressing the weapon enclosed in his hand. "This is the Beretta 92FS. Standard military issue these days, and a precious souvenir for me. You see, this belonged to my first victim, more than 10 years ago."

Ziva began to feel nauseous; he was going to kill her right here, right now. "You have killed military personnel in the past, yes?" she asked softly.

"I did. My poor younger brother just followed orders, you see. He was sloppy, and he got caught. I give him credit though, he never ratted me out, even though your boss gave him plenty of opportunity to."

"Gibbs suspected you all along, didn't he?"

"Let's just say he kept an unnaturally close eye on me for quite some time. I had to quieten my activities down somewhat. But he had my brother killed!" The voice became tight and angry once more.

"That was not his doing," cajoled Ziva desperately. "Your brother destroyed so many lives, Gibbs was just ensuring justice was served on behalf of the victims."

"Screw justice!" he bellowed. "We never got justice when we were kids and our grandfather was beating up on us!"

"That's not true Bobby," a nervous voice called from the shadows.

Bauer jumped, startled. "Mikey?" he called. "What're you doin' here, pal? I thought I told you to stay at home until you have to come and do night duty." Bauer's tone gentled once more; Ziva could detect a soft spot in her captor for his younger brother.

"Bobby, you gotta stop this," said Mikey, moving further forward. "She's hurt real bad, and she's havin' a baby. What if someone had done this to my Julie, huh? How'd you feel then?"

"Shut up Mikey! You don't know man! We've come too far, and you're with me for the ride." The man's tone became menacing, and he cocked the gun in his hand.

"Her boss is comin' to get her Bobby," said the younger man bravely. "I called him myself. He told me I done real good an' that I should hide, but you can't bully me anymore Bobby. You're doin' the wrong thing, and we gotta make it right."

Bauer stared at his younger brother. "You're bluffing," he said finally.

"He's not bluffing," a voice called from the doorway. "NCIS, drop your weapon!"

Bauer turned, and saw Gibbs emerge, followed closely by McGee, DiNozzo and Porelli, all with their guns trained squarely on him.

"Agent Gibbs," he cried, "welcome to the party!"

"Party's over Bobby," Gibbs said, stepping forward slowly.

"Take one step closer Gibbs and I'll kill her," he said calmly.

"Dude, do the math. There are four of us, all with guns, and there's one of you. What the hell makes you think you'll walk out of this alive?" scoffed DiNozzo, his eyes hard as flint.

"Why Agent DiNozzo! I barely recognised you, it's been so many years!" The man's tone was jovial, bordering on manic. "You see, I have no intention of walking out of here." Without warning, he ran forward and grabbed Mikey, using him as a shield.

"Let your brother go Bobby; it's all over," said Gibbs quietly.

"It isn't over 'til I say it's over, _Special Agent Gibbs_," he spat. "Wave bye-bye to the nice people Mikey!"

Mikey was deathly pale; he was starting to wish he'd stayed hidden. Bauer raised his weapon once more, the agents following suit, and before anyone could so much as blink, he'd unloaded half of the clip into Ziva.

Pistol shots rang out from every direction; screams of pains mingling in the air with the echo of gunfire. The four agents were in various positions, some standing, some crouching, and all praying that there's had been the shot to kill Bauer and not Ziva. As the smoke cleared, it revealed the bodies of Robert Bauer and Michael Potter, crumpled on the floor in a bloodied mess.

Gibbs ran forward to Ziva; there was so much blood. Pressing his hands over her wounds, he screamed, "Get an ambulance here now!"

* * *

**Oh jeez I'm a nasty piece of work aren't I? Cliffie, dun-dun-DUUUUUNNNN! Hopefully an update tomorrow... if I feel like it! :P Please read and review, I'm so needy... xoxo**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10.**

The paramedics worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning Ziva's wounds enough to ascertain the extent of the damage. Gibbs never left her side, clutching her hand and stroking her hair with calloused fingers.

"Gibbs," she gasped. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry for my girl," he chided lightly. "You're gonna be alright now, you hear me? You don't have my permission to die."

A small giggle escaped from her lips, followed promptly by a wheeze and a coughing fit. One of the paramedics slipped an oxygen mask over her face, before turning to Gibbs. "You riding with us?" he asked. Gibbs merely glared at him. "Right, course you are," he said to himself, before banging on the window to let the driver know they were ready to go.

* * *

The ambulance took off, sirens blaring. McGee and DiNozzo exchanged helpless looks; neither quite sure how to proceed. Thankfully Porelli stepped in.

"I just spoke to Balboa, he and Ronnie Mathers from my team on their way; we'll process the scene," he said gently. "You should get on the blower, talk to Ducky. Fill him in on what's goin' on. I'll brief Vance."

DiNozzo looked up at the senior agent and flashed a wan smile. "Thanks Porelli, appreciate it. Tim," he said turning to the younger man, "what hospital will they take her to?"

McGee snapped out of his reverie. "Um, the nearest to here is Prince Georges; one of the paramedics said they'll get her there and have her choppered to Bethesda."

DiNozzo stepped forward, and placed both his hands on McGee's slumped shoulders. "She'll be fine man. We better get moving."

* * *

Vance disconnected the call and sighed heavily. His agent had been found, but the situation was a lot less than desirable. He'd told Porelli that he would update Neal and get him over to Bethesda; now he found himself nervous at being the bearer of such news. Standing up straight, he adjusted his tie and squared his shoulders before leaving the office. No sense in delaying the inevitable, he thought.

Cynthia looked up as her boss opened the door. "Did they get to her?" she asked worriedly. Vance smiled and nodded; she let out a whoop of delight, before the tears began to fall again.

Vance sighed once more and plucked a handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to his secretary. "She's not doing too well Cynthia, but you know her. She's a fighter. Keep your prayers going," he said before leaving the office.

Cynthia wiped her eyes and blew her nose, before picking up her phone. "Abby, it's me," she said a moment later. "They found her…"

* * *

Neal had never driven so fast in his life. He ran practically every red light in the district in his haste to get to Bethesda; he had to see with his own eyes that she was still alive.

He sprinted into the ER, flashing his identification at anyone who tried to stop him. As usual, the busy hospital was flooded with patients and he found it difficult to get the attention of anyone.

"Neal!" he heard a voice call out.

Turning, he saw McGee and DiNozzo, shirts spattered with blood and both looking as though they'd been through the wringer. "Guys, any news?" he asked anxiously.

DiNozzo was the first to speak. "She's not here yet; I just spoke to the boss and they wanted to get her stabilised a little before bringing her here."

"What the hell happened?" he demanded.

"Bauer shot her," said McGee simply.

Neal glared at him. "And what, none of you could get a shot off? Why didn't you take the asshole down as soon as you saw him?"

DiNozzo paled at the insinuation; he was ready to let loose with a barrage of words, but McGee spoke before he had the chance.

"You know we don't just shoot Neal; he had Ziva restrained and then used his brother as a shield. We did what we always do – try to negotiate. Once he fired, we all fired." McGee was furious inside, but kept his voice calm. The last thing they needed right here was an altercation with their colleague's boyfriend.

Neal refused to be placated. "You mean to tell me that _any one of you_ could've fired the shot that hit her?"

This time, DiNozzo did speak. "Not a chance Gardner," he said hotly. "All four of us had guns trained on Bauer, all four of us took the shot when we had to. Your boss is processing the scene; get the facts before you start blamin' us." He spun on his heel and walked away, anger pulsing through his body.

"If she dies, her blood is on you!" yelled Neal furiously to the departing agent's back.

DiNozzo whirled around again and moved forward, ready to attack, but McGee stepped neatly in front of him.

"Leave, Neal, before any of us do something we might regret," he growled, bodily blocking DiNozzo. "We're all here because we care about Ziva; so long as we do we're on the same side. Now go." McGee pointed down the hallway.

* * *

Ziva faded in and out of consciousness; aware only of the sterile plastic of the oxygen mask on her face, and the hand combing through her hair. Her eyes fluttered open, trying to focus. "G'bbs?" she slurred softly.

"Shh, honey, I'm here," he soothed. "Everything's gonna be okay; we're almost at Bethesda."

"Th' baby," she rasped.

Gibbs' heart broke at the look on his girl's face. "Close your eyes sweetie, just let the medicines do their work." He continued to stroke her hair, making plea after plea to whichever God was listening that they would all get through this in one piece.

* * *

It had been almost 4 hours since Ziva had arrived at Bethesda and almost immediately been rushed to surgery. Ducky had been able to get sporadic updates on her condition, but when words like 'critical blood loss', 'infection', multiple GSWs' and 'trauma' were the key ones being bandied about, it was difficult to remain optimistic.

The small waiting room was crowded; Abby sat cuddled up next to Ducky for support, DiNozzo and McGee were both restlessly fidgeting in the moulded plastic chairs, and Gibbs stood at the doorway, motionless. The only sounds were the occasional sniffle from Abby; otherwise not a word was spoken.

Vance walked into the room; it had the feel of a funeral parlour. Wordlessly, he distributed cups of coffee and sandwiches to the team, before beckoning Gibbs to follow him out to the hallway.

"How is she?"

Gibbs took a long draught of coffee before answering. "Critical, but doin' okay for now. They're more worried about the baby, one of Bauer's shots tore into the wall of the uterus, which Ducky says can be bad."

Vance rubbed a hand over his face. "Keep me updated Jethro."

"You got it." Gibbs crushed the now empty coffee cup in his fist, and walked over to toss it in the bin. He turned to rejoin his team but a muffled noise gave him cause to investigate.

Sneaking his head around the corner, he found the source of the disturbance: Neal Gardner, sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and head in his hands.

Approaching cautiously, he crouched next to the man. "Gardner, you alright?"

Neal lifted his head; his tear-stained face tugging on Gibbs' heartstrings. "I can't lose her Gibbs, not like this."

"We're not gonna," Gibbs vowed.

"You don't know that – you _can't_ know that," he whispered in a broken voice.

"I do know that," the older man replied, a slight smile in his voice. "I gave her an order. My agents always follow my orders."

Neal looked at him, completely nonplussed. "You ordered her… not to die?" he asked uncertainly.

"That's right," Gibbs told him, settling down next do him on the floor, "and it's a rare day when one of my agents disobeys a direct order."

Neal smiled, which blossomed into a small chuckle. "You know, if I hadn't had first hand experience of how much of a bastard you can be I would never have believed that." He sobered quickly though, as another thought occurred to him. "I blamed you guys for this, you know."

Gibbs nodded. "I'd figured as much, otherwise you'd be in there with us letting Abby hug the life out of you."

He hung his head. "I'm sorry Gibbs. I should've known better."

"Yep, you should have," came the blunt response. "But at times like this even the best of families argue. Consider it forgotten."

Ducky came barrelling out of the waiting room. "Jethro!"

In an instant, Gibbs was on his feet. "Yeah Duck?"

"She's out of surgery."

* * *

Gibbs hovered in the hospital room, watching as Ziva slept. Her eyes had flickered with recognition when the doctor brought her out of the anaesthetic, before quickly giving way to exhaustion once more.

Abby, McGee and DiNozzo had all been in to see her, mostly for reassurance that she was still there, still fighting. Their visits had been far too brief for their liking; the doctor chasing them out of the room after only a couple of minutes. As Ziva's medical proxy and power of attorney, Gibbs was able to stay with her, although truth be told no one would have tried to stop him. The biggest surprise however was Neal – Gibbs had told him he could stay, after all he was her boyfriend, but he had begged off, a dazed look crossing his features. Gibbs chalked it up to stress and promptly disregarded it, telling the younger man to go home and get some sleep, that he would call if anything changed.

Gibbs eased himself into a chair in the corner of the room, not taking his eyes off the motionless figure lying in front of him. A nurse came in bearing a cup of coffee, which he accepted with a grateful smile. He drank heavily at the strong brew, and relaxed back in his seat, closing his eyes momentarily. He wished that she could sleep for an eternity and never experience the pain, but he knew that that was an impossibility. Instead, he sent up a short prayer of thanks that his girl had been returned to them, and asked for help in the coming days.

* * *

**Again, another shorty, I'm sorry - this one didn't flow quite as well as I would have liked. Always a problem when my brain does one thing but my fingers another...! Anyhoo, please review - I loves youse all! xo**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry for the delay in updating guys, NYE just about annihilated me, as did the next day's antics wakeboarding at the dam! Still, it's up and I'm happy with it. Thanks for the reviews, you know how much I love them. Happy 2011 everyone! xo**

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Chapter 11.

Ziva's subconscious gradually became aware of the pain; an agony that engulfed her and left little room in her mind for anything else. She moaned, the excruciating feelings charging through her body bringing her further and further out of the blissful depths of slumber.

"Take it easy Ziver, I got ya," a familiar voice murmured in her ear. "You're okay now girl, you're in the hospital."

She struggled to open her eyes, heavily bruised from three days of systematic abuse. "Gibbs?" she whispered.

He sat on the edge of her bed, and slipped a comforting hand into hers; the other reaching for the call button. "I'm gonna let the doctors know you're awake, they'll give you somethin' for the pain."

Even in her state, Ziva could still make out the faintest of tremors in his voice. "What has happened? Is the baby okay?"

Gibbs avoided her eyes and began busying himself, stroking her hair back and straightening the blankets. "You were shot, remember? You had to have surgery, two through-and-throughs and one that lodged itself in your intestine. You've got a few infected cuts and scrapes but considering everything, you're in reasonably good shape," he said, keeping his voice light.

"Gibbs," she pressed, "the baby?"

He sighed heavily and picked up her hand once more, clasping it within his own two. "One of the bullets went through the wall of your uterus, also nicking the umbilical cord on its way. The baby went into distress; the doctors needed to perform an emergency Caesarean. You have a baby boy, Ziva."

"A boy," she breathed, tears pooling in her eyes. "Is he okay?"

Moisture sprang to the eyes of the older man; his heart was breaking for her. "He was hurt quite badly by one of the shots. He's in ICU, that's all we know for now."

* * *

Neal drove aimlessly, weaving around the streets of DC with no particular destination in mind. Ducky's words kept echoing over and over in his head:

"_Complications due to the shooting … baby in distress … born too early, lungs aren't working properly … little boy …"_

A myriad of emotions were scrambling through his mind; he was terrified, angry and worried all at once. He winced as he recalled the glares that DiNozzo and McGee threw at him as he exited Ziva's room. He'd needed to see with his own eyes that she really was alive, but once he'd gotten in there…

He had been more than a little surprised that Gibbs had been the one to understand, if not fully, his need to get away from the hospital. There were too many bad memories for him; he had felt physically unable to do more than cast a sombre gaze over Ziva, press a gentle kiss to her forehead and keep himself from running as he left the room.

Disgust and shame flooded him, and he realised just how cowardly he must have looked. He needed to get past all of his issues if he was going to make good on his word to always be there for Ziva – the one who'd brought him back to life. His mind made up, he pressed down heavily on the accelerator, a destination now in his mind. He'd be driving through the night, but that didn't matter. He was determined to make it happen.

* * *

McGee and DiNozzo were in the hospital cafeteria, waiting for Gibbs to call and update them. They toyed with their coffees, neither in the mood for small talk.

Finally, DiNozzo could take it no more. "What the hell's going on? Why hasn't he called?" he burst.

"He hasn't called because he is unable to do so," spoke a soft Scottish brogue. "He has, however, asked me to inform you both that our Ziva is awake. She is in an enormous amount of pain, but is otherwise fine." Ducky slid into the booth next to McGee and took his glasses off, rubbing his face in an effort to revive himself.

"Does she know about the baby?" asked McGee.

"She does," the elderly physician confirmed. "Naturally she is devastated, but she would not be the girl we know and love if she was not threatening bodily harm on anyone who wishes to come between her and the child." The two agents smiled briefly at that, an image forming in their minds at Ducky's words. "The doctor is going to make arrangements for Ziva to visit with Baby in the ICU, thanks in no small part to Jethro's… tenacity."

"You mean he was actin' like the cranky sonofabitch he is," replied Tony admiringly.

"Yes well, the point is Ziva will be with her baby shortly. Hopefully this will prove beneficial towards her recovery in the long run." One of the cafeteria staff brought a mug of tea over for Ducky; he smiled at her appreciatively. "Thank you Carmen," he called to the retreating woman's back. Taking a deep sip, he closed his eyes and leaned back in the seat. "Have either of you spoken to Mr Gardner?"

A thunderous expression stole over DiNozzo's normally handsome features. "He bolted."

Ducky was confused. "What do you mean Anthony?"

"He means that the gutless piece of shit did a runner Ducky," spat McGee; a venom in his voice that few thought he could possibly possess. "He took one look at her and couldn't get out of there quick enough."

"Now now Timothy, we must remember that the last couple of days have been hard on him also," Ducky gently admonished. "He has since learned that his partner is in a critical condition, as is his child. It may simply have come to a head and he was unsure of how to handle things."

DiNozzo shook his head. "Ducky, you didn't see him, the look on his face said enough," he said in disgust. "He was… I dunno, it looked as though he just didn't care. Gibbs asked him to stay with her and he said no! Hell, any one of us would've given anything to do that, and he just walks out on her!" Tony's fists were clenched and his voice was shaking.

Ducky realised quickly that he needed to diffuse the situation. "I understand your loyalty towards Ziva boys," he said quietly, "but you also need to remember your own rules. Is one of them not, 'never assume – always double check'? You are assuming the worst of Neal right now when for all you know he could simply be trying to do what he feels is right at this point in time."

The boys still had a mutinous expression on their faces; Ducky sighed once more. "At the very least, do try to keep the hostility to a bare minimum when he is around. It will do no one any favours for there to be such open displays of animosity, least of all Ziva."

DiNozzo and McGee exchanged a long look, before turning back to their old friend. A slightly impish look crossed DiNozzo's features before he could help it. "We'll be good Ducky. Can't say the same for Abby though, but we'll be good."

Ducky extended his hands to each of the agents and grasped theirs tightly. "Then for now, let us concentrate on the positive right now. Ziva is alive, and that's all that matters."

* * *

It was in the early hours of the next day before Ziva was able to be taken to the ICU. Her movements were heavily restricted due to the extent of the surgery that had taken place not 12 hours before, and her doctor, while sympathetic, was incredibly strict that she plays by his rules. She had been wheeled to the unit on her bed – two very patient orderlies at either end, Dr Barker and Gibbs on either side. She was silent on the short journey from her room to the unit, almost biting through her bottom lip to stop herself from breaking down in tears.

The Neonatal ICU was an eerie place to be; pictures of animated children's characters and the like adorned the walls, contrasting with the heavy duty medical equipment. The only sounds to be heard were the soft beeping of the heart monitors and the gentle whoosh of the oxygen tanks connected to the little lives hanging in the balance. Ziva was wheeled over next to a humidicrib sitting under a Winnie the Pooh poster, and labelled Baby David.

The nurse on duty, along with Dr Barker and Gibbs eased Ziva's bed to a slightly elevated position, raising it high enough so that she could see into the 'crib with little strain to her body. The nurse gave her an encouraging smile. "Go ahead Agent David, you can touch him."

With trepidation, Ziva slid a trembling hand into the hole in the Perspex to touch her little boy. Tears began to pour down her face. "My little boy," she whispered. She felt Gibbs grip her shoulder; she turned and looked up at him. "Isn't he beautiful?"

"He sure is," Gibbs replied hoarsely. Dr Barker and Dr Campbell, Ziva's obstetrician, had given him the prognosis on the little fellow; the news had not been positive. Still he didn't want to be the one to break the news to her. "Have you thought of a name for him yet?"

"Neal and I decided many weeks ago, that if it was a boy he was to be called Matthew," she said in a broken voice, shifting her gaze back to her child. "Will he live?"

"The odds are not good Ziva," said Dr Barker gently. "He suffered from intracranial haemorrhaging due to the distress he was under at the time of the operation, and because one of the bullets nicked the umbilical cord he's got a bit of an infection – sepsis to be exact. The sepsis we can treat; the bleeding on the brain… well, we just have to wait and see. His lungs aren't fully formed yet either, so he's struggling to get enough oxygen through his little body, but the intubation is helping a little with that."

Ziva bit her lip again, this time breaking the skin. A thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth; Gibbs reached for his handkerchief and wiped it away. He took her hand and squeezed tightly, wrapping his free arm around her shoulders and drawing her close. She regained her composure eventually, and pulled away from Gibbs, all the while holding his hand. "If anything should happen," she said carefully, trying to keep her voice steady, "you are not to resuscitate him, are we clear? I do not want my little Matthew to suffer any more. If he lives or if he dies – it is God's will." Her free hand drifted up and clutched the Star of David once again around her neck. Gibbs had returned it to its rightful place when she was out of surgery, knowing the comfort she drew from it.

Dr Barker nodded solemnly. "I understand perfectly Ziva. Would you like to stay a while, or do you want to go back to your room?"

She hesitated a beat before answering. "I will stay please."

He smiled and patted her shoulder. "Just hit the call button if you need anything," he said as he turned to walk away.

Gibbs and Ziva sat in silence; he stroking the back of her hand with his thumb, she in turn stroking the hand of Matthew. Finally, she spoke. "Where is Neal?"

Gibbs swallowed hard. "He's… he left Ziva."

"He could not handle seeing this." It wasn't a question.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I think he's overwhelmed, and he's not sure how to deal with it all. It's not like any of us are good to talk to," he added wryly.

"He is a stronger man than that Gibbs," she said sadly. "He does not want to be with me. If he did, he would be here."

"Hey, no more of that talk," he chided gently. "You're not doin' yourself any favours. He'll come 'round, he just needs some time."

* * *

He had driven through the night to reach his destination, stopping for an hour's sleep before he ran off the road; and finally he was here. He swung his car into the parking lot of the Rochester Memorial Medical Centre and killed the ignition. As he opened the door and stepped out of the car, an older woman exited her car.

Moving forward, she greeted him sadly. "Hello Neal," she said, enveloping him in a gentle hug.

"Moira," he whispered, returning the hug.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked, holding him at arm's length.

"No. But it's been long enough. I can't do it to you, or to me, anymore."

"You held out hope for so long, Neal, what's changed your mind?" Moira asked.

"Someone helped me to see the light," he smiled gently.

"She must be pretty special to get through that thick skull of yours," the older woman teased.

"Oh yeah Moira. She's one of a kind." He turned and headed towards the entrance of the hospital. "C'mon," he said, extending his hand to her. "Let's go say goodbye."


	12. Chapter 12

**A Gibbs-heavy chappy for you all - just need to get a different perspective is all... thanks for reading and reviewing! xoxo**

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Chapter 12.

Ziva eventually returned to her room, hustled out by Dr Barker with strict instructions to rest; that he will fetch her if anything changes with Matthew. She tried desperately to find a comfortable position – no small feat after a four-hour surgery – and closed her eyes, the painkillers assisting her journey back to unconsciousness.

Gibbs sat in the corner of her room; once he was sure she was asleep, he allowed himself a private moment of grief. The whole team were sure to be feeling the pain; after all they had been with Ziva at one of the worst moments of her life, and now this… He wiped the tear that leaked from the corner of his eye, cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. He couldn't understand why someone could do something like this to a pregnant woman, let alone Ziva. _Thank god the bastard is dead_, he thought bitterly, _or I'd like nothing better than to string him up and kill him myself_.

"It's quite alright to cry Jethro," a soft voice interrupted his reverie.

Gibbs looked towards the doorway, not at all surprised to see Ducky standing there watching him. "Just can't figure it out Duck," he admitted.

"And what is there to figure out my friend?"

Gibbs opened his mouth, then closed it again, almost unsure of himself. "Why her? I mean… she's been through enough already, why this?"

Ducky sat down next to his friend and placed a comforting hand on his knee. "You might as well ask why does sun continues to set in the west, Jethro. There is no rhyme or reason to any of this, you of all people should know better than that."

"She's signed a DNR on Matthew," came the hoarse response.

"Matthew, is that the little fellow's name? A Hebrew name I believe, meaning 'a gift from God'. Perhaps this is how Ziva sees things; God has given her a gift, she will give one in return if necessary."

"All she's wanted for so long was to just return to normal," Gibbs ranted softly, standing up and pacing. "She meets someone she thinks is a great guy, they fall pregnant and it looked like she'd finally get her 'happy ever after'. Now she's been tortured again! Raped again! She's gonna lose the baby and the prick that knocked her up is nowhere to be seen!" He slumped back into his chair; the fight momentarily gone from him. "How's she gonna cope?"

Ducky gazed at Gibbs before speaking; choosing his words carefully. "Are you sure that is the question on your mind right now? Or are you wondering how _you_ are going to cope?" He raised a hand at Gibbs' look of indignation. "Hear me out Jethro, please. It is no secret that Ziva adores you and looks at you like the father Eli never was to her. You have a copy of Matthew's first ultrasound picture in your basement, correct?" Gibbs nodded mutely. "You were looking forward to a second chance, one that you were never going to get once Kelly passed away. Now it all hangs in the balance, doesn't it?"

Gibbs let the elderly gentleman's words wash over him. "I just want to see her happy," he finally said.

"She will be one day," said Ducky kindly. "But we can't force that to happen. All we can do is help pick up the pieces as she goes along. Now," he said, clapping a hand on Gibbs' shoulder. "Why don't you head home and get some rest? You look like you could use it. I will stay here with Miss David; I am sure that Abigail will be along shortly, as will your boys."

Gibbs was about to protest, then he changed his mind. Ducky was right; he _was_ exhausted. "Call me if you need me," he said, standing up and stretching.

"Of course."

* * *

An incessant pounding of his front door roused Gibbs from his slumber. Glancing groggily at the clock on the bedside table, he noticed the time. _Shit its 7pm! I've been asleep for 9 hours!_ He sat upright quickly, getting his bearings before slipping out of bed and pulling a t-shirt over his head. He reached for his gun and headed for the stairs, tucking his weapon into the back of his sweats, hand never leaving it. Alert, despite having been woken somewhat abruptly, he glanced through the window to see who was behind the ruckus. Surprised, he flung the door open.

"What are you doin' here Gardner?"

Neal stood on the front porch, fidgeting nervously. "Gibbs, can I talk to you? Please?"

Gibbs stared at him for a moment, face expressionless, before jerking his head in the direction of the sitting room. He waited until Neal had entered before shutting the door, his hand still resting on the butt of his gun.

The younger man was restless, Gibbs noted, but he couldn't figure out why. There was a certain lightness to him that hadn't been there before, but it was tinged with melancholy, a combination that Gibbs himself was familiar with. His instincts told him to go easy on the man, that he needed to get something off his chest first. Then, Gibbs told himself, he would shoot him.

Neal was pacing around the living room floor, opening his mouth to speak before shaking his head and closing it once again.

"Neal, sit down before I scream," Gibbs said not unkindly.

Neal glanced at him and allowed himself a nervous laugh before doing as suggested. "I guess you're wondering where I've been," he started.

"The thought has crossed my mind once or twice," Gibbs said drily.

"Look, it's just that… I mean, I should have told you… but then, it wouldn't have been fair, 'cause I haven't said anything to Ziva yet, and for her to find out from you would've been shit, and I just didn't know how to…" he trailed off and looked at Gibbs helplessly.

Torn between annoyance and amusement, Gibbs stood up from his own seat. "I'm gonna get us some coffee," he said. "You think about what it is you're tryin' to say." With that, he left the room, returning shortly after with two steaming mugs in his hands.

"Thanks," said Neal, gratefully accepting the hot drink. He took a mouthful and nearly gagged. "Shit, this is strong!"

Gibbs barked out a laugh. "Yeah, but you'll get used to it. Now, you figured out what you wanted to say?"

Neal reached into his pocket and withdrew a photo, gazing at it fondly before passing it to Gibbs. "This is Alice," he said softly.

"Pretty girl," said Gibbs. "Who is she?"

"My wife… well, ex-wife," he replied, impervious to Gibbs' sharp glance. "We were high-school sweethearts; got married straight after college. I joined the police force; she worked at the child care centre. She was so great with kids," he smiled at the memory. "We were fine for a few years, and she fell pregnant."

Gibbs nodded his head and indicated for Neal to go on with his story.

He took a deep breath and continued. "She miscarried in her seventh month; it was awful. She fell into this real deep depression afterwards, blaming herself for losing the baby. No one could tell her anything, she wouldn't budge. Took almost three years of therapy for her – for both of us – and she finally healed. Well, we thought she healed. She started drinkin', and doin' a lot of drugs – not the greatest thing for a cop's wife to be doin' huh," he said bitterly. "Her mom and I tried to help her, but she was self-destructing. She left me; took up with her dealer. Had the papers served on me in the precinct."

Gibbs was shocked; how could anyone have not known about this?

Oblivious to Gibbs, Neal continued his story, clearly relieved to be getting it out of his system. "Few months after, I applied and got accepted to the Bureau, so I moved down here. Her mom called me about a year after that; Alice had been in an accident. I was still her medical proxy at the time, guess we'd never gotten around to sorting out all that paperwork when we split. Her boyfriend was high and crashed the car on the freeway; he was killed and she wound up in a coma. Brain damaged," he added unnecessarily, taking another mouthful of coffee.

"I completely freaked out when they told me. I don't know why, she'd made her choices but I still felt like she was a part of me, y'know?" At this, he looked at Gibbs for assurance; the older man merely nodded. "They told us she was all but dead, and that we should pull the plug. But I couldn't, I just couldn't do that to her!" he cried, slamming his fist down on the arm rest of the sofa he was on.

"How long has she been on life support?" asked Gibbs softly.

Neal sighed heavily. "About 4 years. I had her put in Rochester Memorial; they specialise in coma cases and the like. I've been paying the best doctors, and prayin' for a miracle, but there's never been any change."

"So what happened?"

"I met this girl; this amazing, funny, charismatic girl who turned my life upside down. I would have given anything to have my old Alice back, but it was never gonna happen. Ziva's been the best thing that's happened to me in years Gibbs. She's saved me."

"So why haven't you been to the hospital?"

"I wanted to, God help me I really did. I was terrified though, that if I saw her all I'd see was Alice lyin' there, and that was the last thing I wanted. Then I realised that the two of them are like chalk and cheese. Alice was then, but Ziva's my here and now. She's what I want. So I drove up to Rochester, rang Alice's mom and we signed the papers to turn off the life support. I figured that Ziva deserved to have the whole me and not just half a man."

Gibbs nodded and surveyed the exhausted man in front of him. "So why are you telling me this instead of Ziva?"

"She adores you Gibbs, you're like a father to her. I figured if I was gonna get to see her, I had to get past you and those two pit-bulls of yours. So I'm here to plead my case. I love her, but if you don't want me anywhere near her just say the word. I'm not gonna make her choose between her family and me."

Gibbs didn't say anything; just drank deeply from his cooling mug of coffee. Finally, he spoke. "You've broken her heart, and let me tell you that _nobody_ hurts my girl and gets away with it."

"I understand," said Neal quietly.

"You pull a stunt like this again Gardner, you'll be singin' soprano, got it?"

Neal blinked; uncertain that he was hearing things correctly. "So… I can see her?"

"With me. You'll have a chance to tell your story, but if she tells you to leave, you leave. I will do one thing for you though," he said, softening his tone. "I will back you up."

"You will?"

"I know what it's like to have your world ripped apart," Gibbs said simply. "You're getting' a second chance at life Gardner; don't fuck it up."

"I won't," vowed the younger man. "You have my word."

"Good," grunted Gibbs, and then glanced at his watch. "Visiting hours are almost over; you wanna try and make it tonight, or just go tomorrow?" Neal looked at him as if he were crazy. "Right, grab your coat. Let's go."


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry for yet another delay folks, RL has been doing horrid things to me lately. Am hopefully back on the horse, especially since this bloody rain is keeping me from doing anything remotely productive...! Please read and review xoxo**

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Chapter 13.

Gibbs drove at his usual below-warp speed, but it still wasn't fast enough for Neal. They made it to Bethesda in record time; sweeping into the ward, two men on a mission.

Tony DiNozzo was sitting on a chair outside Ziva's room, head resting on his hand. "Boss," he greeted, standing up. Catching sight of Neal, he stopped short. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snarled.

"I'm here to see Ziva," he said, not backing down.

"You got a lotta nerve Gardner," spat DiNozzo. "What makes you think you deserve to see her?"

"I don't, but Gibbs has agreed that I should at least try." Neal spoke with a quiet determination, not taking his eyes off the angry agent in front of him.

"This true Gibbs?" Tony eyed Neal suspiciously.

"Every word of it DiNozzo," replied the older man calmly. "What're you doin' outside?"

"She's having dressings changed, or something like that, I'm not sure. Abby's in there with her; I said I'd wait out here 'til the all-clear."

"Which is now," chirped a bright voice. "Gibbs!" squealed Abby, flinging herself into his arms, before pulling back and slugging him in the arm. "That's for taking so long to come back! She needs you mister!"

"Hey! I'm here now, aren't I?" he gave the lab rat a half smile. "Had a few things to do before I came back," he continued, jerking his head behind him to where Neal stood.

Abby looked behind Gibbs and glared at Neal. "Nuh-uh. No way is he going in there, she's upset enough as it is!"

Gibbs ignored the implicated sentiment. "We're gonna go in. You two – go home and get some rest."

Abby crossed her arms and shook her head; DiNozzo mimicked her actions. "Not goin' anywhere Boss."

The team leader sighed; he knew better than to argue with them. Reaching into his pocket he said, "Well how about you go get some coffee for us then?"

"Already taken care of Boss," McGee's voice said from behind him. "Want one?"

Gibbs took the proffered coffee and opened the door to Ziva's room, looking back over his shoulder at Neal. "You comin'?"

Neal hesitated a minute before following Gibbs, studiously ignoring the death stares that were being directed at him.

* * *

Ziva lay on her bed head turned to the wall. She'd begged off the painkillers, at least temporarily – the physical pain reminded her that she was still alive, still able to feel. Her mind and her soul felt tainted; she would never have admitted to anyone that she needed the comfort that he provided. _He_ had held her through her nightmares, he had chased her fears away, he had helped vanquish some of the demons from Somalia once and for all – and now he was gone. She clenched her eyes tightly shut, and forced herself to harden her heart. He had gone, he'd left her – just like they all do, she thought bitterly. She shook her head, not caring about the pain. She had to focus on Matthew now; he was her main purpose for living. She smiled softly at the thought of her precious little boy, still fighting a warrior's battle in the Neonatal ICU. She was so proud of her little man; he had certainly inherited her more tenacious traits, and not the cowardice of his father. She snorted; she would certainly not forgive him this time, no matter when she saw him.

Her thoughts intent on inflicting the most harm possible on the weasel that had dared call himself her partner, she didn't notice the door to her room opening and closing softly. It wasn't until Gibbs spoke that she became aware of his presence in their room.

"Now that's a look I haven't seen for a while," he teased gently.

"And which look is that Gibbs?" she tossed back absently.

"The look of a pissed-off Israeli assassin plotting revenge," he smirked.

"Yes, well, I am sure that there will not be much left of him after you are finished," she retorted.

"Actually, I'm still in one piece, surprisingly," Gardner piped up, stepping out from behind Gibbs.

Ziva's casual demeanour quickly turned ice-cold, as did her glare. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I'm here to see you," he replied quietly, taking another step forward.

"Well you have seen me, so now you can leave." She turned back to face the wall, refusing to allow the tears brewing the chance to escape.

"Ziva please, just let me explain," he tried.

Gibbs was surprised that she didn't get whiplash, she flung her head around that quickly. "Explain? Explain what? That you ran away, your tail between your legs like some wounded cat? That I wake from surgery and it is my _boss_ sitting next to my bed, holding my hand, and not you? That our child is in the ICU and you do not make so much as a phone call?" she spat. "Get out. I do not want to see you; not tonight, not ever."

Neal stood his ground. "I'm not going anywhere Ziva, not until we talk," he said simply.

Ziva threw a murderous look his way, before appealing to Gibbs. "Gibbs, please," she said, her slightly tremulous voice the only indication of the storm of emotions tearing through her.

"Hear him out Ziva," came the unexpected reply.

Ziva gaped at him wordlessly; that was not the response she expected from the team leader.

Neal took another step closer to her bed, pulling a chair up as he did. "Ziva," he began, "you have every right to hate me. But at least let me explain. Then you'll be able to hate me without prejudice." He gave a wry, self-depreciating smile that tugged at her heart strings.

Ziva glared at him, then Gibbs, before turning her attention back to him. "You have two minutes," she said shortly. "I may not have any of my usual weapons, but do not think for one second that I cannot kill you all the same."

"There's one thing I've always tried to avoid Ziva, and that is underestimating you." Neal took a deep breath, and glanced over his shoulder at Gibbs for some reassurance. Receiving a brief nod bolstered his confidence, and he began to speak. "In another lifetime, I was married…"

* * *

Ziva listened to Neal tell his story, all the while keeping an impassive expression on her face. She couldn't help but feel for the man who was obviously trying to retain an element of control throughout. His voice trailed off as he mentioned leaving the hospital once she was out of surgery, clearly ashamed of himself, but grew stronger as he described the revelations he'd had upon leaving the hospital.

Neal's story wound down, and he sat watching her carefully, twisting his hands in his lap. She didn't say anything; merely continued to process the information, her face expressionless. Finally, he spoke. "So there you have it – my sorry excuse for an excuse. I know I should've told you about Alice months ago; I just couldn't do it. I never wanted to hurt you Ziva, even if you don't believe everything else, please believe that."

He stood, clearly uncertain how to proceed. After another minute, he gently patted her ankle. "I love you, but I screwed up. I get it. I will always be there for you, and for the baby, but if you don't want me around I'm not gonna force the issue." He turned to leave, his hand on the doorhandle. Looking over his shoulder, he said softly, "Take care of yourself Ziva."

"The baby's name is Matthew," she burst.

Neal paused and turned back to face her. "A little boy?" he asked, unable to stop the grin appearing on his face.

Ziva nodded. "He is beautiful," she said, almost wistfully, before forcing a brisk tone back into her voice. "I need time Neal. You cannot fix this overnight. I appreciate you telling me though."

Neal nodded, before pulling the door open and exiting the room.

* * *

Ziva waited until the door had latched shut before turning to Gibbs. "Do you believe him?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied simply. "He came by the house before; we talked for a while. He feels bad, but I get it if you don't wanna see him again."

"What should I do?" she asked, more to herself than him.

"No one can answer that except you Ziver," he said, sitting on the edge of her bed and taking her hand in his. "He hurt you, and you're hurting enough. Hell, none of us would blame you if you didn't take him back. We just wanna see you happy."

Ziva was silent a moment, thoughtfully chewing on her lower lip. "No one has ever wanted that of me," she said softly, a tear escaping from the corner of her eye. "He made me happy Gibbs; but now… I just don't know."

"He's a dumbass, yeah, but he's a dumbass that loves you. He came to me first because he wanted my blessing to talk to you; he didn't wanna come between you and me, the team. Want my advice? Listen to your gut. He'll respect you whatever happens." He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Get some rest Ziva. You look like hell." With that, he stood and left the room, leaving Ziva to her tangled thoughts.

* * *

Neal sat on a bench outside the hospital entrance, deep in thought. He felt lighter since telling Ziva the truth, but couldn't shake the fear that she'd never forgive him. Hell, he thought, if I were in her position I'd probably be kickin' my ass right about now.

"Happy with yourself Gardner?" a sharp voice spat from behind him.

Without even turning around, Neal responded. "Take a hike DiNozzo, I don't need your shit right now."

"She's messed up as it is; you have no right comin' in and messing her up even more," DiNozzo persisted.

"Yeah well, I had my reasons, none of which concern you. I explained myself to Ziva and to Gibbs; I don't owe you squat," he replied wearily.

"You know she's been cryin' all day? You feel like a big man now, taunting a torture victim?"

Neal was on his feet in a flash, leaping over the bench to get into DiNozzo's space. "Y'know, I've never understood why you've got a problem with me, but now I think I do. You want her, but you can't have her, is that it? You got used to bein' her knight in shining armour, you can't stand to see her with another guy!" He pushed DiNozzo in the chest; anger and frustration rising almost to boiling point. "You wanna make me the bad guy DiNozzo? Tell you what, _go ahead_. I got my reasons for doin' what I did. You think I'm happy about it? Hell fucking no, but it's done."

DiNozzo held his ground, seething. "Who the hell do you think you are _Neal_?" he taunted. "You can't just waltz in and expect everything to be hunky-dory. Here's a news flash for ya, tough guy: she nearly died! Her head's a friggin' mess! And you ran away like the bitch you are." He shook his head in disgust. "You're pathetic, you whiney little son of a bit-"

The sentence was barely out of his mouth before Neal's fist connected with it. The sudden contact took DiNozzo by surprise, and the two men fell to the ground grappling as though their lives depended on it.

* * *

Gibbs and McGee walked out of the hospital doors in time to see Tony use his slight height advantage to flip Neal onto his back and begin throwing punches with precision. Without hesitating, the two sprinted over to the fighters and began separating them; Gibbs on DiNozzo, McGee pulling Neal off the ground.

"DiNozzo!" barked Gibbs in his best Gunnery-Sergeant voice. "Enough!"

The effect was almost instantaneous; DiNozzo stopped struggling against the older man's hold, despite the anger radiating throughout his body.

"Now is not the time, nor the place," Gibbs hissed in his senior agent's ear. "You want Ziva to get word of this?"

"No Boss," replied DiNozzo sullenly.

"Then get in your god damn car, go home and cool off. I'll call you in an hour. Clear?"

"Crystal." DiNozzo threw off Gibbs' hand and stalked away, muttering venomously to himself.

"As for you Agent Gardner," began Gibbs, turning an ice-cold stare on the other man, "You pull a stunt like this again, not only will you be out of a job, you'll be out of the god damn country! You got a problem with one of my agents, you talk to me! Understood?"

Neal gave a terse nod, indicating he'd understood the words and the underlying threat given.

Gibbs softened his tone marginally. "Go clean up, then meet me in the cafeteria."

"Gibbs, I think I should just go home," said Neal shortly.

"It wasn't a request, Agent Gardner. Move!"

Neal glared at Gibbs before turning and heading for the hospital foyer.

McGee watched silently as the battered man walked through the sliding doors. "Boss, what the hell was that all about?"

Gibbs didn't answer. "Do me a favour Tim; go in to the office and dig up everything you can on an Alice Gardner, formerly of Rochester New York. Call me as soon as you've got the intel."

If McGee was puzzled by his Boss' request, he didn't show it. "On it Boss," he said and promptly ran towards his car.

Sinking down onto the bench, Gibbs rested his head in his hands and sighed heavily. There was a hell of a shit-fight down the road, and he didn't have the slightest clue how to deal with it.


	14. INTERMISSION

**INTERMISSION**

Sorry guys and girls, I just have lost track of things a little bit. Not sure if you're aware, but here in Australia there've been some huge floods; I live in Toowoomba which saw the first of the flash flooding and was pretty much the catalyst for all this devastation. We've been lucky – our house is a little north of the town and we're up quite high, so there's been no flooding for us, just landslides and the like. So many of my friends have been affected though and it's just heartbreaking to watch. Personally, I have lived through 5 cyclones and several floods when I lived in North Queensland but this is a different kettle of fish all together.

I'll hopefully update soon, but for now I'm just keeping my wits about me. Working, cleaning and volunteering can really take it out of a girl, but we're Queenslanders – we're rough, we're tough and we'll take on anything!

Keep your prayers and well-wishes coming for the residents of this area.

Lots of love,

Fiona

(MissFee)


	15. Chapter 14

**Hi all... so so so SO sorry for the delay in updating, RL can honestly suck my... well, let's not elaborate, suffice to say things have been a bit off lately. After the floods came cleanup etc. Then last week, Cyclone-bloody-Yasi ripped through the town I was born and bred in. So many family and friends still up there, and me stuck down here completely unable to help. Yeesh. Add to that the fact that my mojo has gone walkabout and there you go - a whopping great wait between chapters. Hopefully this is going to work alright and you like where I'm taking things. It's gonna work out, I promise! Thanks for sticking by me, I have such great readers! xo**

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Chapter 14.

Ziva lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling, her thoughts racing a mile a minute. Part of her was beyond furious that Neal had never shared with her that he was a divorcee, let alone the fact that his ex-wife was on a life support machine 500 miles away. The guilt and sorrow on his face when he told her though… well, that was another story all together. She believed him, and yet she wasn't sure he deserved to _be_ believed in the first place. She sighed heavily, and tried to find a comfortable position once again.

Abby peeked through the door. "Can I come in?" she called softly.

"Of course." Ziva tried to push herself up into a sitting position, falling back gasping in pain when she was unable to.

Abby rushed forward, grabbing another pillow from the chair next to the bed before pressing the button that elevated the bed-head somewhat. "Here, let me put this behind you, might make you a little more comfy."

Ziva nodded, her teeth clenched and her eyes squeezed tightly shut to fight the pain radiating from her abdomen. "Thank you Abby," she hissed out.

"I'm gonna call the nurse," said the young Goth worriedly.

"No! I just need… a minute," came the response.

"Ziva, you're hurting. Let them help you," she pleaded.

"It is better to feel this pain than feel nothing," said Ziva, almost to herself.

Abby looked up sharply at the words; she hadn't heard her friend sound so defeated since her return from Africa. "Does this have anything to do with Neal?"

"He admitted he made a mistake," she replied.

"That's it?" said Abby incredulously. "He leaves you, no one hears from him in almost 24 hours and he comes back and says he made a mistake?" There was no mistaking the outrage in her voice.

"He had a difficult choice to make Abby. He had found himself in a difficult situation very suddenly and he had to do something about it," Ziva found herself saying.

Abby would not be budged. "He abandoned you Ziva!" she cried. "You can't seriously be thinking of forgiving him!"

"I don't know what to think," she admitted. "It is all so confusing."

"Let me make it easy for you okay? You were taken from us for like, four days. You're in hospital. You had live-saving surgery. Through _all this_, he's where exactly? He should be right here with you! Instead, he disappears before comin' back with a sob story to sell to you and Gibbs," Abby spat, her temper flaring.

"Abby –"

"No! Don't defend him! We'd all do anything for you, hell the boys travelled halfway around the world to find you! Going back to this selfish jerk is _not_ the right thing to do!" Abby's bottom lip trembled as she spoke; she jerked her chin defiantly to assert her control of the conversation. The look on her friend's face was enough to tell her she'd said too much. "Look, I love you Ziva. You're my best friend. I just don't wanna see you hurt anymore."

Brown eyes met hazel, and the lack of emotion in the former made the other flinch. "I am tired Abby. I need some rest. If you would be so kind as to alert the nurse on duty on your way out the door."

Abby recognised the dismissal. She stepped forward to place a hand on Ziva's leg before turning and leaving the room.

* * *

McGee sat dumbfounded at his computer, staring at the information he'd unearthed. How had any of them not known about this? He felt sad as he read; it seemed that Neal and Alice Gardner had been the golden couple once upon a time, before tragedy derailed them. He picked up his phone; hesitated, then hit the speed dial.

"_Yeah, Gibbs."_

"You knew about this didn't you." It wasn't a question.

Gibbs sighed heavily down the end of the line. _"Only found out tonight Tim. You able to find a death certificate?"_

"Looking at it right now Boss; its dated today." McGee was frustrated, but he wasn't sure who with: Gibbs or Gardner. He waited a beat to put a lid on his emotions before continuing. "So what do we do now Boss?"

"_Not much we can do except wait. Let the two of them sort it out for themselves; pick up the pieces if necessary."_

"I don't like it Boss," the younger man admitted grudgingly.

"_Neither do I Tim but there's not much of an alternative,"_ Gibbs reminded his young agent patiently. _"Go home and get some rest; you could be needed for a bigger battle yet."_

"What about you Boss?"

"_Me and Neal are gonna have a little chat, see if somethin' good can't come out of this trainwreck." _Gibbs hung up without waiting for a response.

McGee smiled a little to himself; it was just like Gibbs to try to fix things for everyone. He stretched and yawned, before glancing at his watch. Sleep could wait; he had a few more things to take care of first.

* * *

Gibbs watched carefully as Gardner made his way to the booth he occupied in the cafeteria. He held a paper towel up to his split lip and a spectacular black eye was already blossoming on his face; but the expression was a combination of defiance and remorse.

Gibbs gestured for him to sit down. "I ordered you a coffee and an ice pack; figured you could use it," he said, waving to alert the waitress of his companion's arrival.

"Thanks," said Neal sullenly.

Gibbs leaned over the table and smacked the other man in the back of the head. "Right, now we do things my way," he growled, "and the first thing you're gonna do is pull your head outta your ass."

Neal looked as though he were about to protest the treatment, but an evil eye from Gibbs put paid to that. "Yes sir," he mumbled.

Gibbs sat back, somewhat satisfied. "You've made a damn mess of all this Gardner," he said bluntly.

"I know, believe me I know," Neal replied wearily. "I've wished over and over that I could do things differently, but I can't."

"Why'd you lie?"

"It wasn't a lie per-se Gibbs," Neal started, before shrinking back in his seat under an icy glare. "Okay, well it wasn't a lie in the strictest sense. I mean, we were divorced, y'know? How do you bring that up with a new partner? 'Hi, my name's Neal and I'm currently keeping my ex-wife on life support just in case there's a miracle and she comes back to me.'" He snorted. "Brilliant. I don't know why I never told her, I guess I just thought that it would never become an issue and I'd be able to deal with it eventually."

"You had four years though Neal. You mean to tell me you held out hope for all this time?"

Neal was silent; toying with his coffee mug as he tried to find the words. "I don't know," he said carefully. "Her mom was devastated when we split up; the accident practically destroyed her. Part of me wanted to keep her alive for Moira's sake, but as time went on it turned out that I was the one who wanted her alive. While she was still alive, it was almost as though I was using her to drive my work. It wasn't until I left the FBI and joined Balboa's team that I realised I didn't really like the person I'd become. Ziva's a part of that Gibbs. You know how I said she's brought me back to life? Well that's only part of it. Now that Alice is finally gone I can breathe easily for the first time in years."

Gibbs nodded; his face clear of emotion. "And the fight with Tony? What the hell was that all about?"

A flash of guilt crossed the other man's face. "We said a few things to each other and it got out of hand. I'll deal with that," he added firmly.

Gibbs eyed the other man, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. "So, how we gonna fix this?" he said.

"I don't know, but I'll do whatever it takes," replied Neal earnestly. "I'd go to the ends of the earth for her Gibbs, I love her."

Gibbs nodded once more, a crooked half smile forming on his lips. "Then we better get crackin'. You're not done grovelling either," he added sternly. "There's a long way ahead of you Gardner, don't forget that."

* * *

Ziva tried her best to sleep, she really did. Every time she closed her eyes, however, all she could see were the faces of her tormentors, blurring with the face of her partner. Frustration fought with pain and exhaustion and she finally had enough. She reached up and flipped the overhead lamp on, and was about to press the call button for a nurse to administer some pain relief when the door creaked open.

McGee's head popped through the gap. "Are you awake?" he called softly.

"I am Tim, but I do not wish for visitors," Ziva replied, keeping her voice level. "Besides, it is well past visiting hours. You should not be here."

"I took a leaf out of Tony's book," he said sheepishly. "I promised the duty nurse I'd take her for a coffee if she let me see you just quickly."

Ziva smiled despite herself. "Well after such tactics perhaps I can stand to see you for a minute."

McGee opened the door properly and slid through, closing it carefully behind him. "How you feeling?"

"Like I have had major surgery," came the response.

"I meant how you are feeling after seeing Gardner," McGee replied patiently, not at all fazed by the display of sarcasm.

Ziva sighed and fiddled with the blanket trim. "I do not know how to feel," she said finally. "Perhaps it is for the best if we part ways; I do not know whether I can trust him anymore."

McGee gently placed a file on her lap. "Here, this might help you make up your mind," he said.

Ziva opened the file and saw the copy of the newspaper article detailing Alice Gardner's accident on top of the other papers. "McGee what is this?"

"Just a little bit more insight into the man," he said simply. He turned to leave. "Sweet dreams… Probie," he smirked, opening the door to her room and disappearing into the corridor.

Ziva quickly scanned the article, her heart clenching as she read the details. Placing the article to one side, she lifted the next page and began to read.

* * *

Baby Matthew David lay asleep in his humidicrib, blissfully unaware of the turmoil his parents were going through.


	16. Chapter 15

**Sorry for the delay - again. RL is not kind to me all the time lately, just when things start going well it all falls to shit once more. But you're not here to read my rants, you're here for the story! A short chappy again, I know I'm sorry. **

**BIG HUGE thanks for your patience with me and a special shout out to MollyGibbs101 - Mollz you rock my world baby!**

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Chapter 15.

Ziva awoke before the first strains of sunlight signaled the arrival of a new day. Her sleep had been fitful at best, and it was not until the night nurse administered a more powerful relaxant that she had been able to get anything that resembled rest. She stretched her arms above her head carefully, mindful of the dozens of stitches in her body, and glanced over at the sleeping body in the visitor's chair of her room. Gibbs.

He had crept into her room quite late; she feigned sleep until she could no longer sense his presence beside her bed. She knew – she _knew_ – that he had spent a good part of the evening talking with Neal, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Gibbs had always been quick to take her side in the past; what was so different about this situation?

Then again, was it her that was having difficulties understanding? The documents McGee had brought to her the previous night flashed through her mind; Neal had certainly proven himself to be a driven and dedicated man since his wife's – ex-wife, she reminded herself – tragic accident. If there was one thing that always struck a cord with her, it was loyalty – but then again, she'd experienced enough in her lifetime to know that loyalties could be misplaced. So caught up in her internal monologue, she didn't notice a pair of blue eyes blink awake and rest upon her. A sleep-laced voice snapped her back to reality.

"Penny for your thoughts Ziver."

"I have never understood that expression," she replied absently. "Why would someone pay for another's thoughts?"

"Well, what's on your mind then?" came the slightly impatient reply.

"Everything and nothing Gibbs. I am angry and hurt, but at the same time, I understand. I know what it is to hold onto false hopes." She sighed softly and rubbed her eyes. "He has held onto this pain for many years; but only now he decides to let it go? What made him change his mind?"

Gibbs was silent a moment; choosing his words carefully before speaking. "He found you. He found you, and then nearly lost you. He's already lost someone he loved very much; I don't think he wanted to do that again. He knows he doesn't deserve a second chance, but he's asking for one anyway." He stood up and stretched, before making his way to the door; pausing briefly to pat her leg. "Ball's in your court kid. Whatever you decide, we got your back."

Ziva didn't reply; merely retreating to the recesses of her mind, desperately seeking solace.

* * *

Tony paced in his apartment; unsure whether or not he'd be a welcome visitor at the hospital, what with his busted bottom lip and battered nose and chin. Ziva was sure to notice, and for all his pomp and swagger he actually found it very difficult to hide the truth from her. He scrubbed his face with his hands in frustration; one way or another he would have to 'fess up to his Ninja chick, no question.

* * *

Neal Gardner had spent the remainder of the night tossing and turning, before giving sleep up as a bad joke about an hour before dawn. He'd taken a bad situation and made it even worse; he knew deep down this to be true. Talking to Gibbs and punching DiNozzo hadn't made him feel better; it had simply compounded the feelings of guilt until they lay heavy in his stomach. Exhaling heavily, he pulled himself out of bed and seated himself at the old desk in the corner of his room. With a heavy heart, he pulled out a sheet of paper and began to write.

* * *

Ziva picked listlessly at the breakfast tray in front of her, her appetite nonexistent. A tap at the door startled her; her hackles rising, defenses all but gone.

Dr Alison Campbell popped her head through the door. "Good morning Ziva! How are you feeling this morning?"

Ziva let out a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding. "Alison, hello. I am doing… okay I think," she admitted to the older woman. The two had developed a bond of sorts over the previous few months, and Ziva trusted her almost as much as she trusted Gibbs.

Dr Campbell cast an experienced eye over Ziva's chart, before resting her sharp gaze on the woman in the bed. "Are you in any pain?" Her tone was gentle, but there was no mistaking the request for the truth.

"A little, but it is not so bad. The nurse gave me something early this morning; I think it is still in my system. How is Matthew this morning?" she asked anxiously.

Dr Campbell smiled. "He's doing quite well, all things considered. He's still on the ventilator, but is responding to gentle base stimuli. It will be some time before we can give him the all clear, but I think that at this stage we can be cautiously optimistic. He's a fighter, just like his Momma!"

Ziva grinned, the first real smile to grace her features since this nightmare began. "Can I see him?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Dr Campbell beamed. "I have a wheelchair out in the hallway with your name on it. Did you want someone to come with you?"

Ziva thought for a minute before shaking her head. "No," she said quietly, setting her jaw. "This I need to do on my own."


	17. Chapter 16

**Again, sorry for the delay in updating - seems to be that I can only update when I'm feeling blue... anyhoo. Onwards!**

* * *

Oddly enough, her mind was calm and crystal clear as Dr Alison Campbell wheeled her to the NICU. The older woman kept shooting concerned glances down at the young Israeli in her care; almost expecting a meltdown. The only concession Ziva made to her emotions was to clutch the armrest of the chair tightly.

As they approached the unit, Alison pushed the chair to one side of the hallway and came around the front, crouching so that she was at eye level with her patient. "Are you ready?" she asked quietly.

Eyes slightly glazed from painkillers, Ziva nodded. "I need to see him," she whispered, almost to herself.

Alison reached out and squeezed her knee gently, before rising to her feet and resuming their journey.

The automated doors to the NICU hissed open as they approached; a sign reminding them of the strict hygiene guidelines to be adhered to in the room. Once again, Ziva found herself surrounded by bright colours and children's characters - completely at odds to the sombre tone of the room. Soft classical music played through speakers adding to the surreal feeling of the unit. She shuddered involuntarily before squaring her chin almost defiantly. The chair glided noiselessly across the polished floor, coming to rest beside the humidicrib of one Matthew David.

Ziva hesitantly reached her hand out to touch him, drawing back momentarily when he let out a soft wheeze. Pushing past her insecurities, she gently toyed with one little fist; her thumb stroking the feather-soft skin of the back of her child's hand. Tears prickled at her eyes but she blinked them away; she needed to be strong when she spoke to him.

"Hello son," she said softly. "Mama's here. You are to fight, do you understand? I will be with you every step of the way. You have the spirit of a warrior; it is my responsibility to ensure you have the heart of one. I love you very much my little man." This time she did not fight the tears, but allowed them to run their course. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of the 'crib, before carefully withdrawing her hand.

Matthew appeared to sense the change in the atmosphere around him; he began to make soft keening sounds as his heart rate went up. Ziva instinctively reached for him once more, all the while making soothing sounds and humming quietly as he settled once more. Matthew's heart rate slowed and his breathing evened out, and it became apparent to all that he was asleep once again.

* * *

Ziva lay back in her bed once more, picking restlessly at the fluff on her blanket. Gibbs had stopped by briefly on his way in to the Navy Yard, leaving after only a few minutes of one-sided conversations that, for a change, he had initiated. The young Israeli woman had been withdrawing into herself since she returned to her room from the NICU; refusing to speak with anyone. Dr Campbell that morning had mentioned the need for a psychological consultation, and upon returning with said practitioner a little later, she had been met with an icy glare and an innate refusal to cooperate. The good doctor stared off with the federal agent for a number of minutes, each refusing to back down, whilst the psychologist mumbled an apology in Ziva's direction before making a hasty exit.

Dr Campbell sighed; she knew when to bend and when to break, and right now was a time to break. "You win Ziva," she said softly, "but you can't hide forever. Sooner or later you'll need to talk. We'll be ready when you are." Troubled by the shuttered eyes of her patient, she made her way out to the hallway and closed the door gently behind her.

Pulling out her phone, she hesitated for a split second before dialling a number she now knew by heart. "Agent Gibbs?" she said a moment later. "Alison Campbell at Bethesda. We have a bit of a problem…"

* * *

It was late afternoon when the door to Ziva's room opened once more. She resolutely kept her eyes shut, refusing to interact with anyone. Darkness was familiar; familiar meant safe. Here, in her own mind, she was in control. Still, her fist tightened around the blanket involuntarily as the door closed and heavy footsteps made their way into the room.

"Well as I live and breathe, if it isn't the charming Miss David!" a Southern voice drawled.

The voice permeated through Ziva's defences almost immediately, and she felt herself begin to smile. "Max," she croaked, her throat scratchy from lack of use. "What are you doing here?"

Max perched himself up on the edge of her bed and kicked his boots off before folding his long legs under himself Indian style. "Well, ya see girl, there was me thinkin' to myself that I haven't had a challenge in such a long time, when lo and behold I get an SOS call from Agent Gibbs!" He grinned at her cheekily. "He tells me that you're in a pickle _again_ and he needs my help. So I said to him, 'anything for my darlin' Ziva, but you owe me a dinner for this!'"

Ziva laughed despite herself. "And what did he say?"

"He said somethin' about cowboy steaks, or cakes, or flakes… I don't know, I was too busy daydreamin' about that sweet face o' yours," Max replied, shooting a mischievous wink in her direction.

"I cannot imagine Gibbs baking a cake Max, but I would definitely like to see him try!" The thought made Ziva laugh again, and she continued to giggle until a twinge of pain flashed through her abdomen, causing her to wince.

Max's expression changed from merry to sympathetic. "So what's goin' on baby? You got taken again huh?"

"You have already spoken to Gibbs, so you know what happened," she replied shortly, turning her head away.

"Yeah but you know that man – gettin' information outta him is like yanking teeth!" He crawled partway up the bed and grasped her chin, turning her head to look at him. "I wanna hear it from you, and I ain't goin' anywhere 'til you tell me the whole of it!"

Ziva angrily jerked her head away. "There is nothing to tell! A crazy man with a grudge against Gibbs abducted me off the street. He tortured me, cut me, hurt me and tried to kill me!"

"Sounds like a fair bit to tell there girl," Max said thoughtfully. "So what about it pisses you off more? The fact that you were kidnapped in broad daylight or the fact that you weren't able to fight him off?"

Ziva gaped at him stunned, struggling to find words. Seemingly oblivious to her growing hurt and confusion, he continued: "Or are you mad that you didn't even _try_ to fight him off? 'Cause the Ziva David I know would've launched a full scale attack at anyone that tried to touch her, let alone stick a gun in her back and pull her into a car! C'mon girl, what happened here? When'd you turn chicken on us all?" he said, a slight mocking tone in his voice.

"I _couldn't _fight him Max!" she cried; anger colouring her tone and flushing her cheeks. "He had a gun and he would have killed my baby!"

"So? Seems to me that would've given you more reason to fight," he pressed on, undeterred by the blossoming fury in front of him. "So you need your team to rescue you, for the _second time_ I might add, and now you're goin' all wimpy on me? You won't talk to your team, you won't talk to your doctor – hell, you won't even talk to Gibbs, and he's the best damn thing in your life right now!"

"Shut up! Just shut up you bastard, shut up and leave me alone!" she screamed, launching herself at him and throwing feeble punches wherever she could reach.

Max said nothing, just let her throw the punches until pain and fatigue took over. As her movements slowed, he took a hold of her arms and gently pushed her back against the pillows. "Right, now that you got some of that anger out of your system, why don't you tell me what's goin' through that curly head of yours huh?" he soothed, stroking her hair back and checking that not too many stitches had been torn in the struggle.

Angry, heated sobs wracked her body as she clutched at her friend's body for dear life. The door to her room cracked open an inch and Max looked up; catching the eye of the voyeur, he nodded and winked as he continued to stroke her back.

* * *

Satisfied that she was being taken care of for the time being, Gibbs let out a sigh of relief – the first such feeling he had experienced in days. Turning to his team, he shook his head. "You're not goin' in there now; she's likely to rip your head off. Let Max deal with her for now, he's the best man for the job."

"But Boss, I gotta talk to her!" DiNozzo protested.

Gibbs fixed him with a glare. "What for DiNozzo? To explain why you beat the crap out of her boyfriend?"

"I need to apologise; I gotta make it right," he mumbled sheepishly.

"No chance. She doesn't know about it, and you're not gonna ease your conscience by tellin' her, you got me?"

DiNozzo didn't answer; merely nodded and looked away.

McGee decided a slight change of topic was in order. "Who's that guy Boss?"

"PTSD counsellor. I've known him for years; he works with military, cops, fire department – anyone who needs help really, he doesn't care," Gibbs smiled a little at the thought of his friend who had helped him more times that he cared to acknowledge.

McGee nodded; if Gibbs was satisfied that Ziva was being cared for then he was too.

"Might as well go home boys; she's in for a long night," said Gibbs gently. "You've both done all you can for now. Vance has given us a few days off; go take a break. You've earned it."

The two younger agents exchanged a long look, before turning their attention back to their mentor. DiNozzo spoke first. "What about you Boss? You gonna get any sleep?" Gibbs just raised an eyebrow. "Right, course not, you'll sleep when you need to sleep," he backpedalled.

McGee snorted. "Come on Tony, let's get you out of here. I think the nurses are about to do a shift change."

Gibbs quirked a small grin as the junior agent led the senior down the hall throwing barbs backwards and forth. He knew that McGee would take care of his friend tonight.

Gibbs cracked the door to Ziva's room open once again to check on the situation. Ziva was clutching a pillow to her chest as she talked; her eyes puffy and her nose red. Max kept a gentle hand on her leg, occasionally reaching up with a tissue to wipe tears from her cheeks. Gibbs closed the door softly. She'd be alright. He knew it.


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Neal Gardner reread the document slowly, his heart thumping wildly in his chest, his palms sweaty. He hoped against hope that this would start to make things right in he and his girl's relationship, but was too much of a realist to know that he could be asking too much. He folded the stiff paper carefully and slipped it into an envelope. He checked his watch and, seeing that it was almost time for visiting hours to commence, grabbed his coat and wallet and made for the door.

* * *

Ziva had exhausted herself the previous night; a session with Max always left her feeling as though she'd gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. She slept soundly, her breathing even, as Max and Gibbs watched over her like two admittedly unorthodox guardian angels.

* * *

The hospital was a good 30-minute drive from Neal's apartment, but it wasn't until he was only a few minutes away that he made another decision. Yanking the wheel around, he turned and headed in the direction of Anthony DiNozzo's abode. He was driving like a man without a plan and he knew it, but if he was going to make things right in their world, he was going to do it properly.

DiNozzo rolled over and groaned as the persistent knocking roused him from a heavenly dream. "This better be important dammit; remember I shoot to kill," he called out, pulling a pair of track pants on over his boxers and staggering towards the door. He glanced through the spy hole and was surprised to see who his visitor was. Making quick work of the locks, he pulled the door open. "Gardner, what are you doing here?"

"I came to apologise DiNozzo," came the reply. "I think we both said some things the other night that we didn't mean to, and if I'm gonna make everything okay with Ziva then I gotta start with you." Neal stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled contritely. "You're one of her best friends, I know that. I just get a little – hell I don't know, _jealous_ I guess is the word to describe it, although you probably think I don't deserve to feel that. Look, all you need to know is that she knows why I've done what I did, and so does Gibbs, and that I love her. Anything else... well, I guess time will tell."

Tony studied the man in front of him; he looked as though he hadn't slept in a month but he still had that air of quiet determination about him that had initially impressed Tony all those months ago. Taking a deep breath, Tony stuck his hand out for the other man to shake. "Forgiven? For now. But if you screw up again, it won't just be me you'll have to worry about." The older man grinned a little to take the sting out of his words.

Neal glanced a little hesitantly at the proffered hand before reaching out and squeezing it heartily. "Consider it remembered," he replied sincerely. "Well, I guess in the spirit of that kind of promise, do you think you could do something for me?"

* * *

Ziva sat up in her bed, chatting with Gibbs and teasing Max; appearing to all more animated than she had in days. She had visited with her baby earlier, and the sight of him opening his eyes ever so briefly had added a little kindling to the fire that Max had reignited in her the previous night. Drs Barker and Campbell were cautiously optimistic about baby Matthew's prognosis; stating that despite his early delivery, his lungs were starting to do a little work on their own, and the bleeding on his brain was beginning to show signs of healing. Reinvigorated with hope, Ziva became determined to heal herself so that she could continue to visit with her son and encourage what she firmly believed was his fighting spirit.

A gentle tap at the door interrupted the conversation flying around the room.

"Come in," called Ziva, smiling. Her expression quickly turned neutral when she saw Neal standing in the doorway.

"Hi," he stammered. "Can I come in?"

"If you wish," she replied coolly. As he stepped into the room, the better lighting displayed the injuries gained the other night. "What happened to your face?"

"Oh, that! Um…" Neal glanced at Gibbs for assistance; the older man merely raised an eyebrow. "I got into a bit of a fight. With Tony."

"You did _what_?" she exploded.

Neal refused to back down. "Look, emotions were pretty high for all of us that night and I know that a lot of that is my fault. DiNozzo and I said a few things to each other, tempers flared, and… I hit him. But we squared it away and its all good now."

"What did you fight about?" she asked, her temper still simmering.

"Who was gonna win the Superbowl this year. What do you think we were fighting about Ziva?" replied Neal, a little sharply.

"Do not take that tone with me Neal, I will not permit it," she shot back.

"Max, maybe we should leave them to it," suggested Gibbs none-too-subtly.

Ziva whipped her head around to look at Gibbs. "No, I wish you to remain. That way there will be someone to destroy the evidence after I kill him." She turned her attention back to Neal, the fire in her soul making her eyes glitter maliciously. "Why were you fighting about me?"

Neal pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and sat down. He reached out and grasped her hand, holding it tighter when she tried to pull away. "Because I made a mess of everything Ziva and I never wanted to. These guys… they're like your family, and they're so damn protective of you and I came along and hurt you. They were lookin' out for you, and I… well, I was too busy makin' you cry I guess." His tone was regretful, the expression on his face remorseful. "I just came by today to give you something." He released her hand and reached into his coat pocket, withdrawing the envelope and handing it to her.

Ziva studied the face of her partner – _ex-_partner, she corrected herself – before looking at the envelope in her hand. Neal's face was carefully blank but she could see the anxiety in his eyes.

Pulling the stiff parchment out, she unfolded it and began to read aloud:

_I, Neal Howard Gardner, being of sound min__d and body, hereby sign over any and all parental rights I may have of the child Matthew to his mother, one Ziva Rachel David. To support both Matthew and Ziva, the amount of $2000 per month will be deposited in the bank of Ziva's choosing. _

_I make this declaration solemnly and thoroughly regretfully._

"_They say, best men are moulded out of faults,_

_And, for the most, become much more the better_

_For being a little bad."_

_Signed: Signed:_

_Neal Howard Gardner Ziva Rachel David _

_Witness: Witness:_

_Anthony Daniel DiNozzo Leroy Jethro Gibbs_

Ziva chanced a look over at Gibbs; she'd never seen the man look so stunned. Looking at Neal, she was surprised to see tears in his eyes.

"Why?" she managed to ask over the lump in her throat.

"Because I love you, but I hurt you, and I swore I would never do that. This way the decision's up to you. Tony witnessed my signature this morning; you and Gibbs sign it and it's as good as legal – for me anyway. You know how I feel about lawyers," he added, trying to be glib but the hitch in his voice giving him away.

"So, what will happen then?" she asked, trying to maintain control of her emotions.

"Well, I spoke to Balboa this morning; he's helping me arrange a transfer out of DC to another field office. I spoke with a realtor yesterday who's happy to put my apartment on the market as soon as I have a rough idea of my transfer date. Then, you get on with your life, and I'll… do what I can." He shrugged sadly. "I don't really want to leave but I can't stay either."

"Why can't you stay?" There was the tiniest hint of a plea in her voice.

Neal looked her in the eye before he answered. "Because I don't honestly think I'd be able to live within 50 miles of you knowing that you were no longer in my life."

"Don't you want to be a part of the kid's life at all?" interrupted Max indignantly, ignoring all of Gibbs' attempts to shush him.

Neal didn't look at the counsellor, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the woman he loved. "I'd love to, but I really do think this is the best way. I don't want to be a part-time dad, and the little guy is too little to even know I exist. It'll be up to Ziva what she tells him when he grows up." His voice caught on the last word and the tears he'd been trying so hard to keep at bay finally began to slip out. "Take care of yourself Ziva," he said, standing up and leaning over to kiss her gently one last time, before turning to leave.

The sound of ripping paper stopped him in his tracks. He spun around on his heel only to see Ziva tearing the page a second time. Taking a hesitant step forward, he stammered, "Are you sure?"

Ziva looked at him, a myriad of emotions tumbling through the chocolate eyes that never failed to hypnotise him. "I want you here, with me, in my life," she whispered.

Neal couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. "Really? D'you mean it?"

She nodded, feeling herself begin to smile. "We have much to work on, but I want you to stay."

Neal let out a whoop of delight before rushing to the bed and gathering her in his arms as carefully as he could, planting kiss after kiss on her face, neck, lips – anywhere he could that wouldn't aggravate any wounds. "I love you so much," he said hoarsely, between kisses.

Ziva pulled back from his embrace a little to look him in the eye. "If you screw up again, do not think for a second that I will hesitate in leaving," she said sternly, before smiling and pulling him in for another gentle kiss.

"I'll always make sure to have a stash of paperclips handy, just in case," laughed Neal.

Gibbs got to his feet smiling, and wordlessly gestured to Max that the two of them should leave the room, allowing the young couple to get reacquainted. Max grinned and followed suit. As he closed the door behind them, he remarked to Gibbs, "There's always gonna be a lot of trouble with that pair isn't there?"

"Oh yeah," snorted Gibbs, "but to them its like foreplay." He walked away, leaving his friend with a stunned expression at the normally serious older man's comment.


End file.
